


Emergency

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Gen, Individual warnings per chapter, M/M, Spoilers for everything, lots of characters, various pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 23:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 71
Words: 24,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5984497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing is easy when a number determines your future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things You Said After You Kissed Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting my canon-compliant drabbles from tumblr on here for organization purposes. Enjoy! 
> 
> Ch 1 is Kougino

The kiss is soft. Not timid, but not overpowering. It’s uncertain. Ginoza pulls away. Then he laughs, softly. “Before, I wouldn’t have even thought about this.” 

“Are you telling me you never thought about this?” Kougami asks. 

“I didn’t think I’d be the one kissing you.” 

“Second thoughts?” 

“Many,” Ginoza admits. 

Kougami isn’t hurt. He appreciates the honesty and to be honest, he expected that answer. Part of him knows the second thoughts are because of things he’s done to Ginoza, and the things he hasn’t done for Ginoza. 

“I think we should try,” Kougami says, “because I think it’ll be okay.” 

“If we get hurt?” Ginoza asks. 

“Neither of us will fall apart,” Kougami reasons. “I know myself. And I know you. When I saw you that first time fighting three guys at school, and you wouldn’t stay down, I knew you had it in you to be okay in the end.” 

Ginoza narrows his eyes. “This is a terrible way to start a relationship–talking about how it will end.” 

“You’re right,” Kougami says, leaning forward. “Let’s talk about how it begins.” He brushes his lips against Ginoza’s, and feels Ginoza smile.


	2. Things You Said I Wasn't Meant to Hear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“I don’t think I can give him what he needs,” Kougami says. 

Ginoza doesn’t hear Akane’s response. He walks away from Kougami’s quarters, towards the office. He has the night off, but he doesn’t want to spend it alone anymore. He needs to work. He needs to get rid of his feelings. 

Because he has feelings, and he’s angry at himself for it. He knows those words weren’t meant for him, and that there’s probably a context that he doesn’t understand, but he can’t help but take them at face value. He jumps to the worst conclusion, that Kougami sees him as a burden. As someone too needy. 

As someone not worth it. 

“Are you okay?” 

Ginoza blinks. He hasn’t been paying attention, but he realizes that he’s standing in front of his desk, one hand planted on the surface, and Kunizuka is staring at him. 

“I thought you were off tonight,” she adds. 

“I’m fine,” Ginoza says. “I have to finish some work.” 

He sits down and turns on his computer. 

He is fine. He will make himself fine, and he will make himself forget about Kougami. Work is the only thing that should matter.


	3. Winter Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“I want you to come with me and Dime.”

Kougami was surprised. Ginoza’s walks with Dime were famous department wide because it was the only time Ginoza left the office for a whole hour. And he never took anyone with him. Kougami took the offer as a sign that their relationship was going well. They’d been dating for a month.

They stopped by Ginoza’s apartment to pick up his wolf dog (not really a wolf, but Kougami had his suspicions). Then they went to the nearby park.

It was cold, and the grass was covered in snow that rose into small mounds at the side of the trail. Dime was a fan of leaping into these mounds and sending snow everywhere. Kougami and Ginoza were both covered in a light dusting.

As they walked hand in hand, they didn’t feel the need to speak. They allowed the calm quiet to soak into their very bones.

After some time Ginoza said, “thanks for coming. This place is beautiful in the snow, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Kougami agreed. He glanced at Ginoza. “And so are you.”

Ginoza blushed and looked away. Kougami stepped forward, cupping his cheek and bringing their faces close. He kissed Ginoza, his lips tasted like winter, like warm and cold wrapped up together to make comfort. And Ginoza kissed back.

And he wanted the moment to last forever.


	4. Strange Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

Ginoza received a message in the middle of the night. It actually woke him up, and he actually thought, “This had better be an emergency.” But when he looked at his communication device and opened the message, it was from Kougami. And it read: 

Gino, I have a stash of porn magazines under my bed. 

Ginoza blinked. Put on his glasses even though he didn’t need them, just in case it would convince his brain to wake up because that was definitely not what the message said. But he read the message again, and it was unchanged. 

With a sigh, Ginoza called Kougami. 

“Gino,” Kougami said. “Listen–” 

“You woke me up to tell me you have porn under your bed,” Ginoza interrupted him. “You woke me up, on one of the few nights I was actually sleeping, to tell me that you have porn. Under. Your bed.”

“I can explain,” Kougami said. 

“Please do, because right now I’m failing to see why I should care.” 

“Okay. Gino. I don’t know how the porn got there.” 

Ginoza closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What?” 

“I think someone broke into my quarters and put porn under the bed. I was looking for my tooth brush–” 

“Under the bed?” 

“It wasn’t by the sink,” Kougami said. “Anyway-” 

“What were you doing with your toothbrush that it wouldn’t be by the sink?” Ginoza asked, alarmed. 

“Maybe the same person took it! But Gino, Gino, my alarm hasn’t gone off. The only people who have been in my quarters are Akane and Masaoka.” 

Ginoza paled. “What was Akane doing in your apartment?” 

“She wanted to see my files on the specimen case. It didn’t have anything to do with the toothbrush, if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Ginoza choked. “I was n-” 

“You don’t think Masaoka did it, do you?” 

“No. No. You should have a talk with Akane because Akane is definitely the one who did that.” 

“Gino, I know it’s your dad but-” 

“Masaoka doesn’t have access to those kind of things without an inspector’s permission,” Ginoza said, relieved that he’d found a way to prove it definitely wasn’t his father. 

“This is awkward.” Kougami sighed. “What do I do with it?” 

“I don’t know,” Ginoza snapped. “Why are you asking me? Why did you even feel the need to tell me?” 

“You’re the lead inspector of the division,” Kougami said. “I’m supposed to tell you when your subordinates are acting out of line.” 

“That’s not why,” Ginoza said. “You did it to annoy me.” 

“Gino, I would never.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

“Do you want it?” 

“Want what?” 

“The porn.” 

Ginoza hung up on him. 

He had actually managed to get comfortable again when his device pinged. Furious, he stabbed at it and shouted, “What?!” 

He heard a giggle. And then Kagari’s voice said, “It was me.” 

And then Kagari hung up. 

And Ginoza couldn’t go back to sleep. But as revenge, he decided not to tell Kougami about Kagari. He was looking forward to watching him have a very awkward conversation with Akane in the morning.


	5. If He Stayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

Ginoza often thought about what would have happened if Kougami had stayed. 

If Kougami hadn’t left to pursue Makishima on his own. If Kougami hadn’t killed Makishima, or left the country shortly after. Ginoza had found a set of keys on Masaoka’s grave and knew Kougami had left them. 

Or maybe wasn’t on Kougami at all. Ginoza thought about the things he’d done. If he’d believed Kougami earlier when Kougami said that Sasayama’s killer hadn’t been caught. If he’d just listened. If he’d spent more time being a good friend and less time trying to push Kougami away because he felt hurt. 

If he’d been able to prevent Sasayama’s death and Kougami’s downfall. 

Akane told him that he’d drive himself crazy thinking of “what if’s.” But he couldn’t help it. His brain liked to replay events over and over regardless of what he wanted, showing him the many ways he had failed, and many things he could have done instead. It was better now that he had the distraction of being an enforcer, but Kougami still wasn’t there. 

And that was another thing he thought about often. He didn’t remember his last meeting with Kougami, not completely. He remembered hearing Kougami hiss, “Pops.” He didn’t remember Kougami’s face. That whole day was clear in all the wrong places. All the places he wanted to forget. 

There hadn’t been a goodbye. Kougami hadn’t left a message, or called. 

That couldn’t be it.


	6. You Deserve Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> past Kougami/Ginoza

“You miss him, don’t you?” Ginoza perched in the chair behind his old desk, where Shimotsuki now sat. But she wasn’t here, and Akane was, and it was just the two of them finishing up reports after a long day. And Akane was looking at the place where Kougami used to sit, her fingers twitching like they wanted a cigarette. 

She sighed. “I do.” 

“But he left,” Ginoza said. “He’s not worth thinking about. He’s probably gotten himself into trouble. He always was.” 

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Akane asked. 

Ginoza looked startled at the question. “What?” 

“Kougami. Do you think he’ll come back one day? Because,” Akane gave him a small, sad smile, “you miss him, too.” 

Ginoza swallowed. Then shook his head. “No. I don’t. I hope he doesn’t. He left us. And we…we don’t need him back.” 

Akane nodded, thoughtfully. But she didn’t look convinced by his words, and Ginoza didn’t feel convinced. 

Because he didn’t need Kougami in order to survive. He didn’t need Kougami at all. He couldn’t. Because when he thought he had needed Kougami, the other man had left. 

And after feeling devastated at the loss of both his father and his best friend, Ginoza started to feel something else. Anger. 

Anger at Kougami for making that choice. Anger at him for not deciding to stay. Anger at him for leaving behind a team that needed him, for never saying goodbye even though he’d known Ginoza for years, known that Ginoza had loved him in his own way for years. It was something he still couldn’t bring himself to explain to Akane, the precise reasons for his anger, because she hadn’t been there for years. So he related her feelings to hers, and hoped that was enough to help her. 

But he was angry, now. Angry at Kougami because Kougami had done something to him that he didn’t deserve. He didn’t deserve to be left behind like that with no words spoken between them. 

So no, he didn’t need Kougami. He didn’t need the hurt that Kougami brought him. 

What he needed was someone who would stay.


	7. I Thought This Might Help

It’s Hinakawa’s first experience with the lethal eliminator. 

Ginoza notices him shaking on the way back to the PSB. He notices the way his hands are clamped together in his lap, the stiff way he’s hunched over, the way he closes in on himself as they walk back to the office, and the blank way that he stares at the computer. 

Hinakawa had not expected the brutality that comes with taking someone’s life with the dominator. 

Ginoza tells Akane that he’s going to take a break. He’s in a better position to leave the office than she is. On the way out he taps Hinakawa lightly on the shoulder and murmurs, “Come with me.” 

Hinakawa, startled, follows him. 

They start walking away from the office, Hinakawa a few steps behind until they get into the elevator. The doors close. And once they do, Ginoza says, “It gets less shocking. But not easier. You just get used to it.” 

Hinakawa nods, jerkily. 

“It gets to everyone,” Ginoza continues. “That’s okay. It means you’re human. The hard thing to accept is that if the dominator is reading that high, then that’s the proper course of action.” 

“I shouldn’t be upset,” Hinakawa mutters, looking away. 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Ginoza says. “It’s never pleasant. But it’s necessary. And you’re allowed to be upset.” The doors open, and Ginoza walks out. 

Hinakawa follows him down a hallway he recognizes as belonging to enforcers for living purposes. Ginoza stops in front of one of the doors, unlocks it, and steps inside. Hesitantly, Hinakawa follows. 

Ginoza’s living quarters are very clean, but there are certain accents, like the colorful red and gold carpet on the floor, or the plants on various surfaces, that make it feel warm instead of cold. 

Before he can really process it, something large and furry bounds into his field of vision, accosting Ginoza before he manages to get to the living room. 

Ginoza bends over and scratches the large furry thing’s head, and murmurs, “Dime, hello. I have a new friend for you.” He straightens up, and steps aside, allowing Hinakawa a full view of the large husky. “Hinakawa, this is Dime. He loves people.” 

“C-can I?” Hinakawa makes a petting gesture with his hands, and Ginoza nods. 

“I’ll make tea,” he says, and disappears into the kitchen. 

Dime pads into the living room, and Hinakawa follows and sits on the couch. Dime jumps up onto the couch and rests his head in Hinakawa’s lap. Hinakawa is surprised. Dime doesn’t know him. But he starts petting the dog, running his fingers through the soft fur, and Dime’s tail is wagging, he seems to be enjoying it. 

Hinakawa starts to relax, slowly. And Dime seems to be falling asleep. Suddenly, all Hinakawa wants is a nap. Dime is warm and comforting against him. 

Ginoza returns with a cup of tea, sets it on the coffee table. Hinakawa startles, makes to get up, but Ginoza stops him. 

“Take as long as you want,” he says. “Rest a bit. Dime loves it when people spend time with him.” And then he heads back into the kitchen. 

Hinakawa finds himself relaxing again. Dime is still, resting, on top of his lap. And soon, Hinakawa too finds himself falling into a peaceful sleep.


	8. Try Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“Gino. I want to try again.” 

Ginoza remembers the times when he and Kougami were equals. When they stole kisses in the office. When they would share a bed at night. When Ginoza would ask Kougami to stay and Kougami would promise. He remembers those words. “I will.” 

He remembers Kougami breaking that promise. Running away, without any words, written or spoken. Without an apology. 

Ginoza wants to say that there is no trying again. That once was enough. That Kougami hurt him, and he doesn’t want to be hurt again. 

But that brings back those memories. Of what they could have had. Of what they almost had. Before everything went wrong, and people died and promises were broken. 

It’s easier to think that there was no almost. Nothing doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel like anything at all. 

“Try what again?” Ginoza asks him, turning away. “We never had anything.” 

He hears Kougami suck in a breath. He doesn’t turn back. They might never see each other again. But that’s fine. 

Because there was nothing between them. There’s nothing for Ginoza to lose.


	9. Why Make Things Harder?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami and Makishima

These late night calls would be the death of him. 

“Don’t you think,” Makishima said, “that it would be easier on both of us if you and I could work together?” 

Makishima never lost his composure. He never got angry, never seemed desperate. He was always calm. 

And Kougami wasn’t. 

Kougami was pacing. Kougami was furious that Makishima would even think of making him that offer. 

“You killed my enforcer,” he said. 

“Your friend,” Makishima said. “We all do things we shouldn’t.” 

Kougami stopped. 

“Think about it,” Makishima told him. “You and I agree a lot more than you realize.” 

And then he hung up. 

And that night, like the others, Kougami didn’t sleep.


	10. There's No Love For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“What are you doing?” Kougami asked. 

He approached Ginoza, watched the smoke trail away from the cigarette in his hand. Ginoza didn’t look at Kougami, but peered out over the terrace towards the ground, towards the street lit up. 

“That’s not good for you,” Kougami added, bracing his back against the railing. He noticed that the cigarette was one of his. Unless Ginoza had done out and gotten his own pack, but as far as he knew Ginoza hadn’t left the building. 

“You’re concerned?” Ginoza asked. “It’s a small thing, compared to the case.” 

He sounded detached, but there was an edge that tripped his words. 

“What’s wrong?” Kougami asked. 

Ginoza shook his head. “Nothing we have time for.” 

“Gino-” 

“It’s fine.” Ginoza dropped the remainder of the cigarette, crushed it under his shoe, and then picked up the remains, stared at the pieces in his hand. “I just need something that I shouldn’t need.” 

“What do you need?” 

The corner of Ginoza’s mouth twitched upwards, briefly. “Something that doesn’t exist.” 

He brushed past Kougami, walking swiftly back towards the building. 

Kougami stood there for a few moments longer, taking in the city at night, but he couldn’t understand what Ginoza might mean.


	11. Let's Talk About This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

Kougami’s first week as an enforcer, Ginoza avoids him. 

It isn’t until the second week that Kougami pulls Ginoza aside after lunch, taking him by the arm. Ginoza had taken his lunch in the office while doing work. 

“You need a break,” Kougami says. 

“Don’t touch me,” Ginoza snaps. 

Kougami moves back, releases Ginoza’s arm. “Gino, you need-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Ginoza says. “And don’t pretend you’re concerned about me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kougami asks. Ginoza doesn’t answer him, starts back towards the office. “Wait! We need to talk.” 

Ginoza stops. Turns back around. “About what?” His hair, longer now, hides his eyes. 

Kougami lowers his voice. “About us. Look, I know you’re upset–” 

“What about us?” Ginoza asks. “You’re an enforcer. I’m an inspector. That’s it.” 

Kougami’s next words get stuck in his throat. Because even though he’s had a sneaking suspicion that this is how Ginoza views them now, it had never been said out loud. And it stings. 

“I have reports to finish,” Ginoza says, already turning away, “and you have work to do.” And he heads back into the office.


	12. You Need to Start Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane 
> 
> TW: drugged character

Through the haze of drugs and pain, Ginoza hears a voice. Not the artificial voice of a drone, but something familiar. Something that’s given him hope over the past few months before everything fell apart. 

“Ginoza-san, I don’t know if you can hear me.” 

The light inside his cell is searing. He can’t even see who’s standing on the other side of the reinforced glass. He closes his eyes, and waves of dizziness wash over him. 

She came back for him. And he’s not even worth it. 

“I want you to know that we all miss you. And we’re hoping for your recovery.” 

This must be a hallucination. A lie. Especially coming from her. He has done nothing for her. He has been horrible to her, and he regrets it. But it’s too late. He’s left her behind. It’s his fault. They’d all be better off if he just-

“And,” Akane’s voice says, softly, “we hope that you’ll come back.” 

Ginoza jerks up, eyes wide open. But Akane has already gone.


	13. You're On Your Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza and Sugo 
> 
> past character death (canon)

There’s a tombstone for Risa in the cemetery on the edge of the city, but there’s no body underneath. Not even an urn full of ashes. There’s nothing of her, because she was torn apart. 

By him. 

For the first few months with Division One, Sugo is afraid to ask to go to the cemetery. He isn’t sure if it’s something an enforcer should even be able to do, and certainly not one who killed his inspector. Even when the team starts to warm up to him, he still feels the guilt of her death hanging over him. He wonders if Tsunemori and Shimotsuki really trust him, or if they’re just pretending. 

And then there’s Ginoza, who avoided him at first and accepted him eventually, even though Risa was his friend. Ginoza, who Sugo knows has lost so many people to this job. He doesn’t want to appear disrespectful in front of Ginoza, so he keeps quiet, because he values whatever he has with the other man. 

A few weeks after the Kamui case is shut and put away, Tsunemori pulls him aside. 

“I’m going to the cemetery,” she says. “Would you like to come? I know you must want to visit Inspector Aoyanagi.” 

Sugo is stunned, but he nods before he can think any more of it. 

He meets Tsunemori in the parking lot and stops in his tracks at seeing Ginoza also standing next to the car. He should have realized. Suddenly, he wants to turn and run. 

But Tsunemori smiles at him, asks him if he’s ready to go, and then he’s sitting in the back of the car as it takes them to the edge of the city. 

The ride is spent in silence. Tsunemori keeps her eyes on the road, actually manually driving the car. Ginoza stares out the window. And Sugo watches the two of them, not sure of how to act or what to say or whether this is okay. 

They get to the cemetery, and Tsunemori asks them both to meet her back at the car in an hour. And then she goes off. 

It doesn’t take long for Sugo to find Risa’s stone. It’s strange, how lovely the cemetery is. The air is fresh, and he feels free. This is the most leeway he’s been given in a long time. He kneels at her stone, says a quick prayer, and then says, “I’m sorry.” 

There is no response. He isn’t sure what else he expected. 

“Sugo.” 

He jumps, turns around. Ginoza is standing a few feet away, watching him. 

“Ginoza,” Sugo says, inclining his head. “I’m sorry. I just–” 

“What are you apologizing for?” Ginoza asks. He steps forward, considers Risa’s grave. “I used to blame myself for my father’s death. For Kougami leaving. It’s easy, when you’re the weak when. When you’re the one who gets hurt, who can’t solve the case.” 

“Ginoza,” Sugo starts, but Ginoza laughs, softly. 

“Blaming myself didn’t help. I had to think about what I could do to protect the people who are here now.” 

Sugo nods. “You do a good job.” 

Ginoza looks at him, gives him a small smile. “As do you.” 

Sugo swallows. Out of everything that Ginoza could have said to him today, he hadn’t expected that. He doesn’t know how to respond to it. He doesn’t know how Ginoza trusts him, but he is grateful. The trust is what he needs. After all, his protection is all he has to give. 

“I miss her,” he says, and it feels nice to say it out loud. He hasn’t, not since that day. “You must miss them.” 

Ginoza nods. Turns away. And says, “Somehow, it’s easier when they’re dead to let them go.” He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat. “We should get back.” 

Sugo follows him to the car, silent. He thinks about how he lost most of his team, but how he’s been welcomed into a new one. How working with Ginoza feels right, somehow, in a way that working with the other enforcers hadn’t before. How he’s been able to make a home for himself in Division One, to move on. 

He wishes Ginoza could do the same.


	14. Can You Reply to Me?

Ginoza shouted into his radio. “Kougami! Kougami, calm down.” 

But there was no reply. 

“Kougami.” 

He’d told Kougami to wait for him, not to run off, not to be stupid. Because he knew. He knew that what Kougami would find was nothing good. 

Kougami had still held out hope. It was one of the many things he did better than Ginoza. 

And now he’d gone silent. 

Ginoza couldn’t catch his breath. He was shaking, he couldn’t swallow. Because whatever happened to Sasayama to take him off the grid could’ve also happened to Kougami. And that was the last thing he wanted: Kougami gone. It made him feel like passing out. 

The radio crackled, and Ginoza held it to his chest, waiting for Kougami to speak, waiting for words that would bring him relief. 

Kougami screamed Sasayama’s name, and Ginoza felt his entire body go cold.


	15. Don't Touch Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: injury

There was blood running down Ginoza’s face and he staggered, fell against the wall. He could hear shouting, but he couldn’t see. 

Earlier that day Kougami had mentioned that he seemed distracted. They’d fought, Ginoza’s patience worn thin over the past few weeks. There was so much to manage in the absence of a second inspector and he found himself working too many hours on too little sleep and forgetting too often that he couldn’t just ask his partner for help. 

Because his partner had let himself get swept away by a case, and Ginoza had known it was happening, had felt Kougami slipping through his hands, and yet when it happened, it still hurt. 

So he turned that hurt into anger, not wanting to get hurt again. But he was still distracted and he was frustrated because he should’ve been paying attention, especially while they were in the field, and instead he’d been attacked and now he was useless and the enforcers were doing his job. 

He closed his eyes, leaning against the cool surface of the nearest building, took deep breathes. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle. A hand gripped his shoulder. He leaned into the touch briefly, until he heard the voice of the person touching him.

It was Kougami. “Gino.” 

“Don’t,” Ginoza hissed, stumbling away. 

“You’re hurt.” 

“Don’t act like it matters.” 

“What?” 

Ginoza opened his eyes. His vision swam but he could make out the police car in the distance. He started towards it. 

“Wait,” Kougami said. 

“Tell Kunizuka to accompany me in the car,” Ginoza said, walking away. 

He managed to get there and practically fell into his seat. He closed the door, set the autopilot to drive for him, and waited, resting his head against the window, trying to ignore the pain and waves of nausea. The blood on his face had dried into an unpleasant sticky mask. 

He imagined Kougami had already moved on, more concerned with other things. That wasn’t true. Ginoza knew that. But somehow it hurt less to think that the Kougami who left him didn’t care at all, rather than cared but not enough.

It hurt less, but it still hurt.


	16. Just Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza
> 
> TW: illness

Kougami felt really, really bad for Ginoza. But his bedside manner was atrocious. 

Ginoza had come into the office that morning looking pale and ill and “like shit” according to Kougami and Kagari. Two hours later he’d rushed to the bathroom, and Kougami followed him, only to find him being violently ill. 

He leaned against the door of the open stall and asked, “How are you feeling?” 

“Go away,” Ginoza moaned, resting his head against the toilet. 

“Why did you come in if you were so sick?” Kougami asked. 

“Do you see any other inspectors around?” Ginoza snapped. “And I thought it would pass.” 

Kougami felt a bit guilty. They didn’t have a new inspector yet, though sometimes Inspector Aoyanagi would help. He sent her a brief message asking her to go to the Division One office. 

“Clearly it didn’t,” he told Ginoza, who started retching again. It sounded painful. Kougami moved forward and tried to put his hand on Ginoza’s back, but Ginoza jerked forward. 

“Don’t touch me,” he snarled. 

“I’m trying to help,” Kougami said. 

Ginoza flushed the toilet. “You could’ve helped by keeping your job.” 

He stood up, pale, and swayed. Kougami caught him before he fell over. 

Ginoza tried to pull away, but Kougami only tightened his grip. “You’re going to my quarters. And you’re going to lay down and rest. And then when you’re feeling up to it you can go home and take time off.” 

“No.” Ginoza’s eyes were wide. “There’s no one else–” 

“Risa just sent me a message. She’s going to help.” 

“I can’t put that on her-” 

“You’re probably sick because you’ve been overworked, not taking care of yourself. You have other people around you,” Kougami said. “Even if you don’t think so. Let us help.” 

Ginoza looked away. “You left.” 

“I’m right here.” 

Ginoza shook his head, but allowed himself to be lead out of the bathroom and to Kougami’s quarters, where he collapsed onto the sofa and curled into himself. Kougami went to get a blanket, and when he returned he was horrified to see that there were tears tracing their way down Ginoza’s cheeks, and he was shaking. 

“Gino, do you really feel that bad?” he asked softly. 

“Thank you,” Ginoza choked. “But please leave me alone.” 

And as Kougami walked back towards the office, he realized that Ginoza’s tears had nothing to do with the sickness at all.


	17. Dance

“May I have this dance?” 

Ginoza narrowed his eyes at Kagari’s outstretched hand. 

Akane had suggested ballroom dance lessons as a way for the team to reduce some stress. There had been a mixed response, including Ginoza emphatically refusing. 

But here they were, in the PSB gym, trying to be competent dancers. 

Kunizuka had paired off with Shion, and Kougami had snapped up Akane. Masaoka was content to watch, since he claimed to be “too old” for dancing. And Kagari, who’d wanted to dance with Akane, was trying to make the best of it by getting to know his senior inspector better. 

“It’s me or your dad,” Kagari reminded him. 

“I lead,” Ginoza muttered, taking Kagari’s hand. 

Kunizuka and Shion were waltzing around the room like old pros. Akane and Kougami both seemed to be stumbling over each other, and the instructor was trying to prevent a major accident. They’d all had a briefing beforehand, a demonstration, but apparently that wasn’t enough. 

Ginoza started using what he’d learned on the demonstration with Kagari. It was awkward–he wasn’t the sort of person who could loosen up enough to go with the music. Kagari also kept trying to speed up the rhythm, nearly tripping over Ginoza several times. 

Ginoza wanted to leave. 

“Spin me,” Kagari said. 

“No,” Ginoza said. 

“Spin me,” Kagari insisted. “Please? I’ve always wanted to be spun but I never get to play the lady.” 

“Will you shut up if I spin you?” 

“Yes.” 

Ginoza spun Kagari, who used that momentum to momentarily take the lead, shocking Ginoza. Kagari spun Ginoza and then, cheating a bit by using his feet, dipped his inspector. 

For a moment, to hoots from Kougami and laughter from Shion. Then the momentum caused Kagari to overbalance and they both fell to the floor. 

“That,” the instructor said, “is not how you dip your partner.” 

Ginoza’s cheeks were burning as he stood. Kagari got up and dusted himself off. Shion broke away from Kunizuka. 

“You look like your crime coefficient will skyrocket if you don’t dance with someone good,” she said, offering her hand. 

Ginoza actually looked relieved. He nodded, took her hand in his, and Shion started leading him around the floor. 

“Maybe we should switch partners, Kougami-san,” Akane said. 

Kougami looked offended. “Why?” 

“Because you’re both crap individually,” Kagari said, “but together you’re dangerous.” 

“Says the man who nearly killed Gino.” 

“I was trying to get him to lighten up!” 

In the end, Kagari got what he wanted: a dance with Akane. And Kougami ended up being led around by an unimpressed Kunizuka.


	18. Cover Your Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choe/Makishima

Makishima resembled a melting wax figuring. In other words, he was falling apart and it wasn’t pretty. 

Choe had been drawn into the living room by a horrible sound. Now he understood what it was as he heard Makishima make it again. He was coughing. Very congested, wet sounding coughs. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Choe asked. 

Makishima looked up at him. “I’m sick, Choe. Help.” 

“I’m not a fucking doctor,” Choe muttered. “Want tea?” 

“Your tea is atrocious,” Makishima rasped. Choe felt a bit giddy at the thought that Makishima would lose his voice. It would mean quiet, for once. And he could talk Makishima’s ear off about hacking without being interrupted or derailed. 

“Take it or leave it,” Choe said. “Is it just a cold?” 

“Just a cold?” Indignation made Makishima’s voice squeak. Choe struggled not to laugh. “I am dying, Choe. My body has betrayed me. I feel like I am being crushed under the weight of the world, and you think it is just a cold.” 

“Maybe a bad cold, but still a cold,” Choe said, heading into the kitchen to make tea. “You’re not dying.” 

“I feel like I have been cast out on the windswept moors of England, lashed with rain and–” He stopped to cough. “Why me?” he lamented. 

“Why don’t you go to bed instead of sitting on the couch and whining at me?” 

“Why do we do anything?” Makishima said, narrowing his eyes at Choe. “You’re not very sympathetic, you know.” 

“You could be asleep, you know,” Choe said. 

He put a tea bag into a cup of boiling hot water and took it over, handing it to Makishima, who grimaced but took it. Then, he sneezed. On Choe. 

“Are you five?” Choe asked. “Cover your mouth! And at least say thank you!” 

“This tea isn’t worth the gratitude,” Makishima muttered, hunched over the cup. 

“Well, in that case, you can die by yourself.” Choe plucked the cup out of his hands and went into his own bedroom. He could hear Makishima complaining, calling his name, but he shut the door and locked it. 

Makishima had probably gotten him sick now. Makishima could suffer.


	19. Everyone Wants to Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: thoughts of death

“Do you have thoughts of dying?” 

Is that abnormal? Ginoza thought. Especially in this job, where death was right there. He didn’t mind the idea of his own. But he couldn’t stand the thought of losing anyone else. 

He must have taken a little too long to answer, because the psychologist said, “Ginoza.” 

“I would have to,” Ginoza said, “in this line of work. And…” He swallowed. 

“And given what happened,” the psychologist said. 

Ginoza nodded. Let him believe that lie. 

“If you’re scared,” the psychologist added, “perhaps it’s best if you don’t return to the PSB.” 

And spend his days waiting to die in a cell? 

“No,” Ginoza said. “I…want to.” It would be faster. Even if they didn’t really need him. 

And why would they? He hadn’t been able to save his own father, hadn’t been able to convince Kougami to stay. Kougami was probably dead, and even if he wasn’t, he could never come back. Ginoza hadn’t prevented any of that. He’d left Akane with a huge burden only a few months into her job.

He thought that it would have been better if he’d died instead of Masaoka.Every time he thought about that moment, he felt an ache in his chest, not because he was scared of how close he’d come, but because he hadn’t. 

Maybe the selfless thing would be to die, instead of stick Akane with another burden. But maybe he was selfish. He couldn’t do it himself. He needed something else to do it for him. 

He didn’t know anymore. As he was taken back to his cell, he didn’t know why he bothered going back. 

Maybe there was a part of him that wanted a purpose. A reason to stop thinking about dying.


	20. We Were Drinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Ginoza couldn’t stop laughing. 

Laughing was generous. He was giggling, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the cold. Akane had shoved her fluffy winter hat over his head. It was lopsided because of his ponytail, puff ball covering one of his eyes. He kept trying to get it out of his face with very little success. 

Akane couldn’t stop giggling, either. She had Ginoza’s black coat draped over her shoulders like some sort of cape. 

They stopped in front of Ginoza’s door, and Akane faced him, trying to stifle her laughter. “Let me fix that for you,” she said, reaching up to push the puff ball away from his eye. 

It plopped back down. 

“Why won’t it stay put?” she cried. 

“Shh! I don’t know,” Ginoza said. “It’s your hat!” 

“It’s my hat,” Akane agreed. She stood on her tip-toes, pushing it back again and keeping her hand there, awkwardly on his head. But there was a hat there, so it was okay. It was okay. She wasn’t blushing. But Ginoza was smiling and flushed and he hardly ever looked so carefree. 

She kissed him. 

It was a combination of warm and winter and comfort. Ginoza pulled her close, sinking into her kiss. Akane had the fleeting thought that Ginoza was always cold–she would warm him up. 

Someone cleared their throat, and they jerked apart and stared down the hall. 

Shion was there, looking very amused. 

“Inspector,” she said, grinning, “what is this?” 

“We went for a drink,” Akane said. 

“Uh-huh,” Shion turned, started walking away. “Kunizuka owes me money.” 

They watched her go. Then Ginoza said, “Tsunemori, if you want to warm up for a bit before you go, I wouldn’t mind making you a cup of tea or…” 

Akane laughed. “How romantic!” 

Ginoza blushed. 

Akane smiled, took his hand in hers. “I’d love to.”


	21. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

The park trail was carpeted in multi-colored leaves, despite the effort from drones to make organized piles on the grass. Dime was attempting to jump into every single pile, and the only reason he hadn’t was because Ginoza was doing an admirable job keeping him close. 

“Just let him jump,” Akane said. “I don’t think the drones will mind.” 

“He’ll get leaves in his fur.” 

“He doesn’t get to go outside that often. Let him enjoy it.” 

Ginoza looked away, because Akane’s face was too hard to refuse. Especially framed by a pink knitted hat. She looked so cozy and happy. 

Her powers of persuasion persisted even when he wasn’t looking at her. “Fine,” he said. “Just one pile.” 

He gave Dime a little slack on the leash. But Dime ran with it–he tugged forward, launching himself into the nearest pile of leaves and pulling Ginoza down with him. 

Ginoza smashed into the leaf mountain, and he heard wild laughter. He was still holding Dime’s leash, but Dime was rolling around and kicking up more leaves. 

Another explosion of leaves, and Akane was next to him, laughing. She flipped onto her back, looking up at the sky, smiling. “This is comfy,” she said. “Have you ever jumped into a leaf-pile before, Ginoza-san?” 

“No,” Ginoza admitted, turning towards, not sitting up just yet. There were orange leaves sticking to her hat and hair, dotting her coat. He reached out to brush one off her cheek and she looked up at her. 

“You have something in your hair,” she said, and she plucked a large red leaf out of his ponytail. Ginoza laughed. 

“I think I’ll keep this one,” she said, turning it over in her hands. “Your hair leaf. We should come to the park more often.” 

“We should,” Ginoza agreed, allowing himself to sink further into the leaves. “If we have time.” He hoped they would have time. He needed this time with her, this relaxation, this happiness. 

Akane turned towards him. “We’ll make time.” 

She said it with so much conviction, that he believed her.


	22. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Ginoza spent so many mornings waking up alone that he was always surprised when he opened his eyes and saw Akane sleeping opposite him. 

He always woke up first. 

Always before his alarm. Their alarm, now. He would admire how relaxed Akane appeared in her sleep, the steady rhythm of her breathing. Sometimes he could brush her hair out of her eyes. Just to remind himself that she was there, tangible. That she chose to stay with him. 

This morning, like other mornings, she woke up slowly. Akane was the sort of person who took her time waking up, had about an hour of drowsiness before functioning. She set her alarm to account for this. 

Ginoza woke up in the opposite way, suddenly, wondering what he had missed, what he had to do. But when he was with Akane, he allowed himself to relax. To wait with her, start the day slowly, give himself time to breathe. 

She opened her eyes and gave him a soft smile. 

“Morning,” he said, and leaned over to kiss her. “I’ll make coffee?” 

She nodded, still blinking from sleepiness. He got out of bed, washed up, got dressed, and went into the kitchen. 

He was just about finished with the coffee when Akane came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his back. He turned around and hugged her close, chin on the top of her head. She was still in her pajamas. She wouldn’t dress until she absolutely needed to. 

“Sleep well?” he asked. 

“Mmm-hmm. And you?” 

“Yeah.” He handed her a cup of coffee and she sat down. He leaned against the counter, and they both sipped their drinks in comfortable silence. 

“It’s supposed to be nice today,” Akane said after a few moments. “We should go for a walk with Dime.” 

Ginoza nodded. Any time out of the office was good for both of them. Akane went back to checking the news, checking her messages. Ginoza finished his coffee. Sometimes he couldn’t do much more than watch her and wonder how they’d ended up like this. How he was so lucky that she would choose to stay with him, to deal with him and all his faults. How she brought him hope. 

Akane caught him looking before he could snap himself out of it. 

“Ginoza?” 

Ginoza blinked. “I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could really think about whether or not that was a proper response. 

Akane smiled, wide. “I love you, too.” Somehow from her it sounded so simple, so matter-of-fact, but also like the whole of her belief and conviction was behind it. 

There had been a time Ginoza hadn’t believed that he could be loved. When Akane said it, he believed her without question. 

He wanted to say, “Thank you,” but he didn’t. She would just tell him that he was being silly, that there was nothing to thank her for. 

But there was. He was thankful for her love, for her caring about him, for choosing to stay. For all the big things that made up their relationship, and all the small. He was thankful for this morning, all the ones that had past, and all the ones that would follow.


	23. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: multiple major character deaths, thoughts of suicide

The countryside was burning. 

Akane had sent him with Hinakawa to go search for anyone escaping. Ginoza clutched his dominator to his chest, hoping that Kougami wasn’t there. Hoping that Kougami had been smart and given up this life of fighting a long time ago. Hoped he wasn’t part of the group of militants that had been furthering their plot to get into Japan and had burned their camp just so that the PSB wouldn’t have any information. 

They circled the smoldering ruins, smoke drifting through the sky. That’s when Ginoza heard a scream.

He ran, Hinakawa following, dominator up. Into the camp. He could see a silhouette through the flames. He didn’t stop to question it, just burst through the fire. 

Kougami had Akane on the ground, kneeling in front of him. 

He must have taken her by surprise. 

Ginoza stopped a few feet away. 

“I don’t want to use force,” Kougami said. “But I will if I have to. You need to let us go. Or come with us.” He pressed a gun to Akane’s head. “Your other inspector has some of my men captive. Tell her to let them go.” 

“No,” Akane said. Her eyes burned into Ginoza. Her jaw was set. She wasn’t going to let Kougami go. “We don’t respond to threats.” 

Ginoza raised his dominator. 

“P-please,” Hinakawa said. “M-Mika can release them.” 

“No. This kind of war making isn’t the way to change the system,” Akane said. “I believe that.” 

Kougami’s grip on her shoulder tightened. “I can’t. And I’m sorry. But we’re enemies in this war. And I can’t spare your life if you’re in the way of our goals. Even if I know you.” 

“Even if we all believe you’re wrong?” Ginoza asked. “Kougami, stop this.” 

“They’ve convinced you,” Kougami said, looking sad. “Or brain-washed you.” 

“No,” Ginoza said, swallowing. “I’m just doing what I think is best for my team. For the people I care about. You used to care about that once. About people, and not ideals.” 

“And it cost me everything.” 

“No. When you started to care only about your ideals–that cost you everything,” Ginoza told him, voice rising. “Your obsession cost you everything. And it will continue to cost you. If you hurt Akane, you’ll lose her. You’ll never have a chance to meet again outside of this, as friends. You’ll never have a chance to meet me again as a friend.” 

“I got the impression that chance passed long ago,” Kougami said. “You told me to stay away.” 

“Because of this.” 

Kougami gave him a strange smile. “You both can choose to let us go.” 

“Don’t,” Akane said. “I won’t.” 

Ginoza shook. Kougami’s crime coefficient was too high, and they could all see it. 

“Then I have no choice,” Kougami said. 

Akane gave Ginoza a sad smile. “Ginoza-san. Do what you need to do.” 

She was giving him permission to kill Kougami. The man she’d admired, spent years missing. The man that had been his friend. 

“Change your mind,” Kougami said. “Gino, please.” 

Ginoza shook his head. “No.” 

He should have shot before he answered. Instead, he shot after. 

And at the same time, Kougami’s gun went off. 

Ginoza dropped his dominator. He couldn’t see through the spray of blood who had been injured and who hadn’t. He rushed forward, stumbling over dirt. 

Kougami was nothing but blood and large chunks of flesh. 

And Akane. 

Akane was dead. 

Ginoza staggered back. He’d been too late. It was his fault. 

He screamed until his voice gave out. 

At some point, a hand touched his shoulder. A voice told him, “we have to go back.” 

Kunizuka, come to get him. 

Ginoza felt unlike himself. He’d dropped the dominator onto the ground. “I’m not going,” he said. 

“Ginoza–” 

“Tell them I died,” Ginoza said. “I don’t care. I won’t go back.” 

“I can’t let you do that.” 

Ginoza stood up, turned to her. “Yes, you can.” 

Kunizuka stared at him. Ginoza pushed past her, walking to the edge of the campsite, now destroyed, ashes. He kept walking. It was dark. He walked through the fields until his feet throbbed and his entire body ached. He walked until his knees gave out and he collapsed into the grass under the stars. 

He lay on his side, staring at the ground and the trees in the distance and the sky above. 

And he didn’t know how he would get up again.


	24. Cooking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Ginoza didn’t know a lot about cooking, but Shion suggested that for one of their “dates” he and Akane should try making a meal together. It was traditional, she’d said. Most couples did it. That was when relationships were made or broken. 

Neither of them really believed her, but Akane’s kitchen was on its way to burning down and there was an acrid smell in the air. 

“Didn’t Kagari teach you how to cook once?” Ginoza asked, batting at smoke with an oven mitt. 

“No, I watched him cook once,” Akane said. She filled up a bowl of water and headed over to the stove. 

It was in that moment that Ginoza remembered something from one of his chemistry classes in high school. But before he could finish his sentence (”Akane, water and hot oil together will ignite a fire!) Akane tossed the water onto the burnt food in the wok. 

Flames burst towards the ceiling. Ginoza grabbed Akane and yanked her back.

The sprinkler system turned on, soaking them both and the rest of the kitchen. 

“I think for our next date, we should take cooking lessons,” Akane said, laughing despite the fact that she was soaked and they’d have hours of cleaning ahead of them. 

“I’m sorry about this,” Ginoza said. 

“It’s not your fault,” Akane said. “Besides, it gives us an excuse to order take out.” She grinned. “The Chinese place down the street is pretty good. And we need to eat before we sort this out.” 

Ginoza grinned back. “Sounds like a plan.” He kissed her, playfully, and she laughed, bright and happy.


	25. Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane
> 
> Tw: Memory scoop

“Go.” Akane lowered her gun. “Just go.” 

Kougami picked himself up off the ground. “Thank you,” he said. And then he was gone. 

Akane turned around to head back to her team, only to see Ginoza standing there. 

They stared at each other. 

“I’m sorry,” Akane said. 

“Don’t be,” Ginoza said. “I would have done the same thing.” 

* 

The next morning, Akane came into the office to find that Ginoza wasn’t there. 

Mika shrugged when asked and said, “He was sent for by the Chief. I don’t know why.” 

Akane spun around and walked out, Mika calling after her. But she knew what this was about. 

Before they were sent out the day before, the Chief had told them to capture the leader of the terrorist cell operating in Tokyo. She wanted Kougami Shinya in for interrogation, for the information he would provide. This way they could destroy the movement against the Sibyl System. 

Akane and Ginoza had both written in their reports that Kougami had managed to escape after a fight. And there had been a fight. 

Akane had won. 

But she hadn’t been able to bring Kougami in. And maybe that was a mistake. She knew Kougami wouldn’t stop fighting just because she let him go. He might even hurt them one day. But knowing what the System was, she couldn’t in good conscience allow Kougami to be taken their prisoner. 

Kasei was sitting at her desk. “You’re here about your enforcer.” 

“Where is he?” 

“You shouldn’t force your subordinates to lie for you, Inspector Tsunemori,” Kasei said. “They are in a precarious position enough as it is.” 

“What do you mean?” Akane asked. 

“For example,” Kasei said, “while an Inspector can refuse a memory scoop, an enforcer can’t.” 

Akane felt like the floor had dropped out from underneath her. 

“I would advice you next time to do your job properly,” Kasei said. 

Akane barely heard her. She was already running towards the labs. 

She found Ginoza curled up on his side, shaking on a metal table, Shion rubbing his back, trying to be soothing. She looked up at Akane and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” 

Akane rushed over to Ginoza. His eyes were closed, his hair sticking to his forehead. She pushed it back. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m here.” 

“A-a-kane,” Ginoza stuttered, his teeth chattering. 

Shion moved to check Ginoza’s condition on her monitors. “I didn’t want to do this,” she said, “but if I didn’t someone else would have. I tried to make it as short as possible. His crime coefficient has spiked. His hue is cloudy. But…the Chief isn’t getting what she wants.” 

Akane looked up. “What? But he saw.” 

“N-no,” Ginoza said. 

Akane stared at him. “What do you mean?” 

“I h-heard you,” Ginoza rasped, “b-but I d-didn’t look.” 

“Smart man,” Shion said. “And these things don’t pick up audio.” 

Akane saw flashes of Ginoza’s memories on the screens. A blank. Masaoka, dead. Flashes of Kougami and the other members of Division One, both current and past. She remembered her own memory scoop, how the memories seemed to spiral uncontrollably until they focused. The lack of control, the reliving of traumatic events, had been horrifying. 

Ginoza struggled to sit up, and Akane pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his shaking body. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”


	26. Don't Leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Injury

It was like reliving the worst moment of his life all over again, except this time, Ginoza couldn’t stand to be left behind. 

Division One had been infiltrating the rebel base to rescue Ginoza, but there had been fighting. Ginoza had not seen them yet, and then an explosion had rocked the base, knocking him unconscious. When he awoke, smoke covered everything. The glow of fire tinged the air yellow-orange. He had every reason to believe that every single member of his division was dead. And it was his fault. 

If he could have, he would have told them days ago not to waste their time on him. 

Someone ran into the room. Ginoza tried to move. His entire body hurt, but his side burned. Blood soaked his clothes. Something tugged at his wrist when he tried to move away. He was chained in place. 

A pair of boots stopped in front of him. Ginoza looked up and almost cried out in relief–it was Kougami. 

They might have been on opposite sides, but it was the first familiar face Ginoza had seen in days, and when everything was burning around him, he latched onto him. 

“Kou,” he breathed. 

Kougami stared down at him, shocked, confused. Ginoza took this as a good sign, that Kougami hadn’t known he was captured, tortured for information. Kougami looked around, walked over to a turned over table and picked something up off the ground before returning. 

He knelt down in front of Ginoza, lifting up his cuffed wrist. 

“I knew they had someone important,” he said after a moment, concentrating on fitting the key into the lock. “I didn’t realize it was you.” The cuff released, Kougami dropped Ginoza’s hand. “I didn’t think they’d blow up the base.” He dropped the key, stood up. 

Ginoza’s throat tightened. “Wait!” He flung out his hand, nearly falling over in the process, having to brace himself with his metal arm, and grabbed Kougami’s sleeve. 

Kougami stared down at him. 

“Don’t go,” Ginoza said. 

“I have to,” Kougami told him. “We are not allies.” 

Ginoza swallowed. “I know. But I don’t know where my team is. I-I need help. I don’t know what’s going on.” Distantly, he knew he must be panicking. “I-I don’t know if the team is here. I-I might never see them again. O-or you.” He remembered watching Kougami run away as his father bled out on the floor of the factory. He’d felt helpless then, and he felt helpless now. 

“I’m sorry, Gino,” Kougami said. 

Ginoza tightened his grip. “Please,” he begged. “Don’t do this. You don’t have to do this.” 

Kougami turned away so that Ginoza couldn’t see his face. “I think I do.” And he yanked his arm out of reach and walked away. 

Ginoza choked on his own breath, lowered his hand and pressed it against his side, where he could feel blood flowing from a wound. He pushed himself up with his other hand, dizzy, and staggered a few feet in the direction Kougami had gone, hoping that he would find someone, anyone, who could help him. Who wouldn’t abandon him. 

He managed to get far enough to catch a glimpse of the sky through the smoke before he passed out.


	27. A Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Akane promised that everything would be okay. She thought it would be. Even when she told Ginoza the truth of the system, she thought they would be fine. Surely, in the safety of the park, isolated from scanners and cameras, her communication device turned off, no one could know. 

But Kasei had confronted them on the way back to the office, in the hallway, surrounded them with drones. 

“He can’t know,” she told Akane. “He’s a risk. And you should have known better than to tell him.” 

They’d been holding hands, but Ginoza let go. 

She looked at him, but he was staring at Kasei. 

“It’s not her fault,” Ginoza said. “I asked her.” 

“We both know that isn’t true,” Kasei said. “Nonetheless, we can rectify the problem. Enforcer Ginoza, you will submit to a memory wipe.” 

Ginoza inhaled sharply. Akane stepped forward, in front of him. “No.” 

“Either he submits,” Kasei said, “or I will have to deal with him in another way.” 

Akane felt a chill crawl up her spine. The same way Kasei had dealt with Kagari, she realized. 

She felt Ginoza take her hand again, squeeze it. “It will be fine,” he murmured. 

“He won’t forget everything,” Akane said. 

“I can’t guarantee what he will and won’t forget,” Kasei said. “It’s a new procedure. But he should be able to return to work within a few days with only mild complications.” 

“Everything will be fine,” Ginoza said. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?” 

He stepped away from her again. 

“The drones will accompany you to the medical ward,” Kasei said. Ginoza nodded, and turned, the drones following him down the hall. Once he was gone, Kasei said, “Perhaps this is the end of your relationship.” 

Akane went rigid. “Don’t you dare.” 

“There are no guarantees in a procedure like this,” Kasei told her. “It might be beneficial to both of you, however, if he forgets who you are to each other.” 

*

The walk to Ginoza’s hospital room was the longest walk Akane had taken in a long time, and part of her didn’t want to reach the end. 

But she did. She went into Ginoza’s room. He blinked at her, dazed, said, “I’m sorry, Inspector Tsunemori. I shouldn’t have acted in such a rash manner.” 

Akane stopped short. “What?” 

“That’s why you had to paralyze me,” Ginoza said. “It’s fine. You must be busy, you didn’t need to come see me.” The way he spoke was detached, like he was holding back. Like they were only colleagues, and nothing more. 

Like before. 

And Akane could barely speak. She wanted to scream, “I love you.” But the words would be foreign to him, as if they’d never been said. 

So she mumbled an excuse and ran out of the room.


	28. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza
> 
> TW: alcohol

Kougami was practically falling over, slumping into Ginoza’s personal space. He was heavy. Too heavy. Ginoza wished he didn’t have to deal with Kougami’s weight on him. 

As an inspector, Kougami might not have gotten so drunk at the Christmas party. In fact, he never had before. But now, his first year as an Enforcer, he was plastered. 

Akane was trying to hold a conversation with them. Ginoza had a glass of wine in one hand and Kougami crushing his other arm, and was trying to listen. 

“Anyway,” Akane was saying, her cheeks flushed with drink but her eyes remarkably clear, “I really think we should have get-togethers like this more often. Everyone seems more relaxed, don’t you think?” 

“I do think,” Kougami slurred, grinning. “Even Nobuchika here-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Ginoza muttered. 

“-is more relaxed. He’s letting me touch him.” 

“I am not.” 

“And,” Kougami continued, “he’s usually just so angry. So angry. All the time. I love him but you gotta admit, he’s angry.” 

Akane’s eyes widened slightly and Ginoza went tense, cleared his throat. 

“Uh, Ginoza-san is,” Akane faltered, “just serious about his work.” 

“Nah, he’s angry at me,” Kougami said. “Thinks I betrayed him.” 

“Kougami-san, you’re drunk,” Akane said.

“But I love him anyway,” Kougami said, as if he’d forgotten who he was leaning against. 

Ginoza’s cheeks burned. “I’m right here, Kougami.” 

Kougami turned to him, blinking. “Oh, right. Gino. I guess I never told you before.” He grinned, leaned forward, and Ginoza staggered back under his weight until his shoulders hit the nearest wall. 

Kougami kissed him. 

It was sloppy and not entirely on his mouth. For a second, Ginoza considered kissing back, forgetting that Kougami was an enforcer and that Akane was standing right there and that they could never do this because-

He pushed Kougami away, could see that Akane had already gone to talk to Kagari. “You’re drunk,” he hissed, and forced his way past Kougami and out of the room. 

In the hall, he took a deep breath, his heart beating too fast. Love. Love.

It was a word Kougami had only ever managed when drunk. Ginoza took a sip of his wine, bitter. He needed to go home. 

Kougami didn’t mean it.


	29. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Ginoza didn’t know why he was agonizing so much over something so simple. 

It was just Tsunemori, he told himself. And it was just a dinner at a casual ramen place. And the reason they were eating at a ramen place is because it was cold, winter, and their first date. He adjusted his tie for the seventh time, wondered if he looked too much like he was at work still, decided that he did, and completely changed his clothes for a green sweater and jeans. 

By the time he was ready, he was nervous enough to be shaking. He sat on the couch and petted Dime, only for a few minutes before his doorbell rang. 

Ginoza answered the door, and saw Akane dressed in a lovely winter peacoat, white knitted scarf, red tights and the hint of a white dress peeking out from under her coat. She smiled up at him, breathless. 

“Ready?” 

He nodded, and they started the walk down to the car. 

He didn’t know whether or not to hold her hand. That probably wasn’t appropriate, considering they were still in the PSB building. Before he could decide either way, they’d made it to the car, were getting in. He didn’t even know what to say, just kept staring at his hands folded in his lap. 

They drove for a few minutes before suddenly, Akane pulled the car over. 

“What-” Ginoza started, but she turned towards him and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his lips. He felt his cheeks grow warm, his whole body grow warm. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek just as she pulled away, smiling. 

“There,” she said. “You don’t need to be so nervous.” 

He stared at her as she started the car again, as they pulled back onto the road. 

But he realized, she was right. He wasn’t nervous anymore.


	30. Eternal (Under the Influence)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza
> 
> TW: alcohol

Ginoza enjoyed the nights when Kougami was drunk. Ginoza wasn’t drunk, but they were in bed together, not doing anything except facing each other under the covers, fingers twined together, Ginoza’s cold hand in Kougami’s warm one, and Kougami staring at him with half-lidded eyes and a small smile on his lips. 

“I love you,” he said, the words slightly slurred. “I love you so damn much.” 

Ginoza remained quiet, watching him, Watching Kougami drink in everything about him, like he was the only person in the world who mattered. 

Ginoza wanted that forever. 

He knew it wouldn’t last. 

In the morning Kougami would wake up and care more about the latest case, about his job, about anything else. Ginoza would not be the thing that mattered most. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Kougami murmured, letting go of Ginoza’s hand to reach out and touch his hair. 

Ginoza smiled, but it was sad. He could only pretend that this could be forever, but he knew it wouldn’t be. 

Kougami didn’t notice.


	31. Long Skirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Akane always wore a long skirt. Not work trousers, even though they might have better for field work. Just that formal black work skirt. 

One morning, after they’d spent the night together, Ginoza watched Akane get dressed. He watched her pull the skirt over her hips as he tugged his own shirt on, and thought back to a time when they spent most of their time arguing, or when he spent most of his time ignoring her. 

Now they were close enough to get dressed in front of each other, and it seemed mundane, but it wasn’t really. There were very few people Ginoza would allow to see the finer details of his life like that. To go to sleep with him, wake up with him, get dressed with him. Become another part of him. 

“Akane,” he said, as she pulled on her blazer, “why do you always wear a skirt?” 

“Hmm?” She turned to him, frowning as she thought of the question. Then she shrugged. “I don’t know. I like skirts.” She smiled. He loved the way she was so certain in what she liked, that it didn’t matter to her, that she would just do what she wanted and not worry about it. “Why, do you find it distracting?” 

Ginoza smiled back. They both knew he didn’t, but that never stopped Akane from teasing him, trying to fluster him. He got flustered at other things, like her smile and small touches and even sometimes the way she said his name. 

“Not the skirt, no,” he said. 

Akane walked over to him, stood on her tip-toes, cupped his cheek, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “This?” 

Ginoza’s smile widened. “This.”


	32. Long Periods of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

Kougami is gone, and time goes on, and it’s as if he’s completely disappeared off the face of the earth. 

Ginoza imagines what he would write to Kougami, if he were to write letters. Not whole letters, but sentences that he thinks he would put in one, things he would like to say to Kougami. Things that he knows he will never say in person because Kougami isn’t coming back. Things that he never got the chance to say when they were together because he wasn’t brave enough, or didn’t want to admit certain truths to himself. 

You’re selfish.

I hate you for leaving me behind.

Why didn’t you take me with you? 

Was I not good enough? 

I’m not good enough. 

I miss you. 

We never would have worked. 

I love you. 

At first, he looks for Kougami in the smell of cigarette smoke, in the broad shoulders of men he passes on the streets, in the way Akane does her detective work. Then he stops looking, stops seeing him in these small things, and doesn’t see him at all. 

He stops thinking about the things he would say, or write, too. Stops wondering what Kougami is doing without him. Whether he’s better off (Ginoza knows, now, that he is) wherever he’s ended up. 

There’s a small stack of books he keeps in his apartment that belonged to Kougami. He doesn’t look at that. They’re hidden behind his clothes in the closet. Some days, he forgets that they’re there. 

One day, Kougami might be gone long enough for Ginoza to forget he ever existed, too. And that scares him. 

Ginoza loved him more than he’d ever loved anyone or anything. 

It scares him that love can just

Stop


	33. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> canon character death (past)

Ginoza curls up underneath his blankets, the yellow-orange flickers from the fireplace holo dancing in his eyes. His father had always preferred real fires to their holo counterparts, despite the holo’s ability to generate heat and mimic the sound and image of a fire perfectly. The only thing it couldn’t replicate was the smell of pine wood burning. 

One year Masaoka had taken Ginoza and his mother into the mountains, to a cabin with a real fireplace. They’d gathered firewood and after a day of Ginoza playing around in the snow with their old dog, Ron, they’d settled in front of the fire. Masaoka had provided hot chocolate and said it was just like the old days. Ginoza, wrapped in a blanket, fell asleep in the warm glow of the flames. This was his favorite part of winter, warming up after a cold day with the people he loved. 

It was also, to his recollection, the last winter that he’d been part of a happy family. 

Now as he lies on his couch in front of the fake fireplace, a bottle of whiskey resting temptingly on the coffee table, he hates that his mind wanders to a time when he used to be happy. He’s older, lost almost everything, everyone that he would spend cold nights warming up with, everyone he cared about. He’s alone, and that warm feeling of wholeness that he had as a child isn’t worth thinking about now. It’s almost like another life. 

In each flicker of flame there’s a flicker of another Christmas. One spent drunk with Kougami and Masaoka in the rec room singing Christmas carols and being terribly hungover the next day. One spent with Kougami curled under a blanket watching sappy old Christmas films. One where he kissed Kougami in the snow and for a moment, everything in his life actually felt right. The Christmas after, another party in the rec room with Division One, and even though he and Kougami weren’t on great terms and he was confused by Akane’s methods, they were all relaxed for once. Kagari had cooked, Masaoka made them play poker, Kunizuka and Shion teased everybody about who should be flirting with who. In the midst of everything, they’d managed to act like some sort of family.

A broken family, now. 

He wonders, briefly, if the ones who are left are spending Christmas alone? 

He sinks further into his blankets, thinking to sleep the day away. If he’s not awake, he won’t have to deal with the pain of memories and loneliness. In his sleep, he can forget that he is the one left behind. 

His communication device rings. He picks it up, eyes narrowing when he sees Akane’s name come up. 

“Hello?” 

“Ginoza-san,” Akane sounds happy for some reason. “I’m going to come over in an hour. I’m picking you all up, so meet me in the parking lot.” 

“Wh-what?” 

“We’re having a Christmas dinner,” Akane tells him. “I thought it would be nice to get together.” 

Ginoza sits up, blanket puddling in his lap. “You-you don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” Akane says. “You all deserve it. I’m not much of a cook but I ordered food. Anyway, I’ll see you in an hour.” And she hangs up. 

Ginoza sits there for a moment, stunned. Akane wants to spend her holiday with them. 

Maybe he resigned himself to loneliness too soon. Akane is still here, and she’s given him hope before. Of course now, when he was feeling hopeless, she would offer her hope to him again.


	34. Stay Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choe/Makishima

Choe didn’t spend a lot of time in one place. He didn’t like to settle, because he wasn’t supposed to be in the country. He kept moving, using the underground networks that he had found during his research, learning about the tech of the Sibyl System along the way, learning how to better avoid it. Learning how to use it to his advantage. 

He never thought he would end up at the center of the System, in Tokyo. The countryside would’ve been better for a fugitive like him, but the more he learned about the technology of the Sibyl System, the more it fascinated him, and he was drawn closer and closer to it until he was right in the middle of everything. 

Moth to a flame, and all that. 

He managed to get a dominator off the black market, which once belonged to an investigator named Yoshitoshi Waku. The inspector himself was long dead, and the dominator locked, absent of its owner. Choe spent days trying to hack into the device. The technology was almost airtight. He figured out how to use the dominator, but he didn’t have the resources at his disposal to make it work. 

He’d need body parts from an inspector or enforcer registered with the PSB. 

He wasn’t willing to break his cover for that. But he did find out other things, like the mechanism for scanning. What he wanted to know was where all this data was going, how it was analyzed, and sent back out. In other words, what kind of program was doing the judging, and where was it based? Because it had to be huge. No computer that Choe knew of had that sort of power to analyze and judge a whole population. 

He spent most of his time hidden in a less populated part of the city. Less populated meant that he was squatting, that there was more crime, but it also meant that there weren’t as many scanners, and the police were less willing to go there. 

There was a knock on his door one night, which was strange. Any visitors he’d had in the past didn’t knock. They forced their way in, and Choe had to force them back out again. 

He opened the door to find a man dressed in all white. His hair was white, too, in the worst haircut Choe had ever seen. He looked more like a pretentious scholar than a criminal, which were the only people Choe saw in this part of the city. He stood out, and Choe was shocked that he hadn’t been mugged or beaten yet. 

“What do you want?” Choe asked. 

“May I come in?” the man asked, his voice polished, refined somehow. 

Choe frowned. “What for? I don’t know you.” 

“Ah yes, that was rude of me.” The man smiled at him. “My name is Makishima Shogo. I know who you are. I’ve heard of you while doing research on the Sibyl System. I’ve heard that you’re the man who knows the most about the technology behind it.” 

Choe folded his arms over his chest. “And?” 

“I want to know,” Makishima said. “Do you have any tea?” He strode past Choe and plopped down onto his couch, crossed his legs and looking up at Choe expectantly. 

Choe barely had food, let alone tea. “No,” he said. “I don’t drink it.” 

“You have a lot to learn,” Makishima murmured. “These living conditions are appalling. I had three altercations on the way here and-” 

“You?” Choe stared at him. 

Makishima reached into his pocket and took out a small razer blade, flipped it open, and held the blade up at eye level. “Those who appear the weakest are often the most dangerous,” he said. 

Something about the way he said it sent a chill up Choe’s spine. “What do you want?” 

“I believe we can help each other, Choe,” Makishima said, folding the razer back onto itself. “I won’t threaten you. But I have means and ways of bettering your life, your living conditions, of giving you access to things you otherwise might have, of getting into places you might not get into. I want to challenge the Sibyl System. And you want to know what makes it tick. I think we can work together.” 

“How?” Choe asked. “How is that a thing you can do?” 

“Because Choe,” Makishima smiled, “the Sibyl System can’t read me. I’m its blind spot. And that’s what you’ll need to see what makes the Sibyl System what it is. To learn the truth. And isn’t that what we all want, Choe? To know the truth of our reality?” 

Choe wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted to know. He just wanted to know about the tech. “Sure. But how do we do that? You’re still one person.” 

“We stretch the PSB thin,” Makishima said. “One person can do a lot of damage. What do you say?” He stood up, pocketed his razor, and held out his hand. 

A delicate hand. Choe reached out and took it, and Makishima tightened the grip, holding him fast. 

“I’m looking forward to our work together,” Makishima told him. 

Choe returned Makishima’s wicked grin.


	35. I Never Thought We'd End Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choe/Makishima 
> 
> Major Character Death

Makishima never said goodbye, because that would be like admitting that they were going to lose. It was always a possibility, but that didn’t mean that they needed to act so defeatist about it. So they didn’t act like every time they split up would be the last. They made plans to reunite. 

Makishima expected that he’d be the first to go. He was the one the PSB were after. Choe worked under him. Choe was less visible. That was part of what made their plan so good. Choe would get to the core of the System before Makishima because Choe didn’t have his visibility. Makishima might die serving as a distraction, but it was all for the greater good of the ultimate plan to unmask the truth of the Sibyl System. 

That isn’t what happened. 

Even after he escaped, Makishima replayed that video of Choe’s death over and over in his head. He didn’t consider himself sentimental, but something in his chest hurt. For the first time in a long time, he felt something strong and deep and aching. 

He missed Choe. 

He talked to himself, the first few nights on his own. Like he might talk to Choe. He’d always mocked the idea of visiting a grave site, seeing no point in talking to decaying flesh or ashes or a headstone. It was illogical. It was something that people did to comfort themselves, but it was meaningless in the end. 

What he wouldn’t give now to believe like those people believed that their lost loved ones could hear them. Because when he talked, he wanted to talk to Choe. He wanted to know that someone was listening. He was alone now, with nothing more to lose except his own life, and that had always been on the line. So really, he had nothing. 

He allowed himself one moment of irrationality before he set his final plan into motion. In the dark, in the empty living space he no longer shared, he stood and murmured, “I never thought it would end like this. I thought I’d be the first to go.” 

There was no answer, and he hadn’t expected one. 

He left the place behind for the last time, and with it, any residual feelings he had towards his dead partner.


	36. Scary Stories

The city had been shut down by a blizzard. 

They were rare, but Akane found herself stuck in the PSB building, unable to get home. She thought about staying in the office, but Ginoza told her that she was being silly, and that she could stay with him. 

Even the criminals were shut in by the snow, so Akane and Ginoza had the evening to themselves. Ginoza made her honey lemon tea, wrapped them both in blankets, and they sat with Dime in the living room, listening to the wind howling outside and watching the snow whip through the darkness through the window. 

At some point, Ginoza turned off the lights, with only candles to illuminate the room. It felt warmer somehow, that way, everything that they could see lit by the soft glow of tiny flames. Akane leaned against Ginoza, sleepy, and said, “Tell me a story.” 

“My father used to tell me stories when the power went out during storms,” Ginoza murmured. “Back when the power went out because of weather. He used to say that he missed those days, when technology wasn’t perfect.” 

“What kind of stories?” 

Ginoza allowed himself a soft laugh. “Scary stories. Not exactly comforting.” 

“I like scary stories.” 

Ginoza smiled. “I’m not sure I could scare you. I don’t even know if I remember many of them.” 

“That’s okay. I like hearing your voice.” She huddled closer to him, for warmth or comfort. 

Ginoza nodded, trying to recall what Masaoka had told him, back when Ginoza had still believed the world of his father and was willing to listen. His heart sank when he realized that a lot of the stories, and the memories themselves, were hard to grasp, slipping through like sand, tumbling away into an abyss. He’d never get them back. He wondered how he could forget something so important. 

“Ginoza?” Akane said, softly. 

“I’ll tell you one of my own,” Ginoza said, trying to cover up the strange emotion he was feeling at forgetting. “One time, Kougami and I were asked to investigate an abandoned hotel. We went there, planning on staying the night, just the two of us. It was a bit of a strange place on the outskirts of the city, and it was getting dark. I went outside for a bit, leaving Kougami alone. When I came back, Kougami looked scared. Actually scared.” He laughed, and a little bit of the sadness eased out of him, replaced by something bittersweet. 

Akane laughed too. “He’d never admit that.” 

“No,” Ginoza agreed. “I asked what happened and he said that he’d been following me outside. But I was inside the whole time. So he was following someone or something else, until I called to him asking where he was going. Who knows where that thing was going to lead him?” He was embellishing a little bit. He didn’t actually believe Kougami at the time, just put it down to stress or an overactive imagination. 

“Did you find out what it wanted?” Akane asked.

Ginoza shook his head. “We didn’t really talk about it again. But maybe that creature was trying to lead Kougami to death. Who knows?” 

Akane curled against him. “Kougami didn’t need a creature to lead him away,” she murmured. 

Ginoza started, a bit shocked at her words, and Akane realized what she’d said. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. It’s true.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Akane said. “You’re here. I’m here. We’re together, and that’s what matters.” She looked up at him, gave him a soft smile. 

Her smile filled Ginoza with warmth. It was all he needed on a cold night like this, to get him through the storm.


	37. Broken Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major character death and violence

Ginoza would always remember the sound of shattering glass. Sharp, tearing through the silence. He would remember the way the rain reflected off the shards, distorting his own face, making him look like a watercolor painting, pale skin awash with blood, his eyes hidden underneath dark hair, tears hidden by rain drops. 

The moment he came back to himself. A knife wound to the stomach, dripping blood onto the ground, another wound to the head. Three dead bodies around him, two exploded by his dominator, the other one, neck snapped. They’d killed Sugo, then tried to drag Akane away into their truck, to take her hostage. To hurt her. Possibly kill her. 

He hadn’t listened to commands. He hadn’t thought to leave anyone behind to negotiate. He had to get rid of the people who would take Akane away from him. He had to do his job. It was all he was good for. He was a killer, kept by the System to eliminate criminals like himself. To eliminate danger. 

He’d already failed to protect Sugo. His closest friend, since Kougami left. He couldn’t lose the one he loved. Akane stood a few feet away, shocked. Staring at him. 

Ginoza swayed on his feet, dominator still held high, his arm rigid. 

“Put the dominator down.” Shimotsuki’s voice broke the silence, high and shrill. 

Ginoza turned towards her, to see why she sounded so scared. He was faced with a dominator in lethal eliminator mode. 

He felt numb. Now he was a monster. A killer, not worthy of being kept alive. From behind him, he heard Hinakawa make a strange noise. He was stuck. He couldn’t move. 

Then Akane quietly said, “Please.” 

Ginoza dropped his weapon. It hit the ground, hit the glass at his feet, and his fingers curled around air. 

He hoped Akane would see past this. Would still love him even though the numbers made it clear that he was beyond saving. 

He knew better. She was too good to love a monster. He never wanted her to have to watch him die.


	38. It's Too Early For This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

Ginoza rang the doorbell to Kougami’s quarters. He waited a few seconds, which turned into a minute, which turned into him wanting to leave, when Kougami opened the door. 

Ginoza’s jaw dropped. 

Kougami stood in the door, naked, dripping wet. “Just in time, Gino.” 

“It’s too early for this,” Ginoza snapped, turning away. 

“Wait!” Kougami grabbed his arm with a wet hand and Ginoza cringed. 

“What? I came over to have dinner with you, not to be given a peep show.” 

“But you like what you see?” Kougami asked. “Can we go inside? It’s kind of cold out here.” 

Reluctantly, Ginoza stepped inside. Kougami padded into the living room. The shower was running in the background. 

“Shower with me?” 

“What?” Ginoza wasn’t sure he’d heard right. 

“Shower with me,” Kougami repeated. 

Ginoza gave him a blank look. “I’m here because you said you were cooking dinner. Why would I want to take a shower with you?” 

“Are you really asking me that question?” Kougami asked. 

Ginoza scoffed. “I don’t care what your reason is. It’s not happening.” He turned and went into the kitchen. “You didn’t even start cooking!” 

“I lost track of time,” Kougami muttered, turning and slinking off to the shower to finish washing up, disappointed.


	39. Moping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choe/Makishima

Makishima sighed heavily and sagged against the window. 

Choe made a mental note. Makishima had sighed heavily ten times in the past half hour. He’d paced the room twice, gone to stand by the window three times. Choe remained where he was on the couch, engrossed in his tablet, looking at the specs for the helmet he was developing. The one Makishima had asked him to develop. The one Makishima was distracting him from. 

Makishima sighed again. 

Choe sighed and put down his tablet. “Are you actually going to tell me what the fuck is your problem?” 

“Choe!” Makishima turned to him, affronted. “I am suffering.” 

“You are distracting,” Choe said. “Don’t tell me this is about your human hunting scheme failing.” 

“It wasn’t a failure,” Makishima sniffed. “That isn’t the problem.” He didn’t offer more. He was being difficult. 

Choe, as always, took the bait. It would be more annoying not to. “What is the problem, then?” 

“Kougami Shinya,” Makishima said. “He won’t engage with me.” 

“And by engage you mean?” 

“Discuss the philosophical and moral nature of the Sibyl System for a night under a truce,” Makishima said. “He wounds me with his outright rejection. My mind against his would make for wonderful sparring. Why does he not see that?” 

“Because you fucking murdered his best friend,” Choe said. 

Makishima considered this. “Yes, but I don’t see why he keeps harping on about that. It happened three years ago.” 

Choe picked up his tablet again. “Just accept that not everyone wants to become your philosophical boy toy.” 

“No,” Makishima agreed, wistfully, “but it would be nice.”


	40. Naturally Attractive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: alcohol

Kougami was swinging his beer bottle in a way that Ginoza would describe as dangerous. Mostly because beer kept flying out of it. 

“I don’t understand,” Kougami slurred, “why Akane wouldn’t like me. What’s not to like?” 

“Have you looked at yourself?” Ginoza muttered. He wasn’t drunk. They had work tomorrow. 

“Yeah, and I’m hot. I’m naturally attractive. It’s in my genes. Unlike some people.” 

Ginoza narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s not just about looks, Gino,” Kougami said, leaning towards him as though he were about to impart some great wisdom. “It’s also about attitude. It’s a combination. And your attitude means that I’m attractive and you aren’t so attractive.” 

“My attitude,” Ginoza repeated. “You mean that I take myself and my work seriously?” 

“So do I,” Kougami said, draping an arm around Ginoza’s shoulder, his other arm still waving the beer bottle around. “But I know how to relax. You should. Then maybe Akane would like you.” 

“I don’t want Akane to like me,” Ginoza said, cringing under the weight of Kougami’s arm. He tried to duck away, but Kougami held him close. 

“Good, because I want you to myself,” he said. 

“I thought you wanted Akane to like you?” 

“No. Not seriously. I was joking.” Kougami pressed a sloppy kiss to Ginoza’s cheek. “You’re the one-” 

“You’re drunk,” Ginoza snapped, pushing him away. “And we’re not doing this.” He took a few steps back, and Kougami stared at him. 

“You’re really leaving, Gino?” 

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning,” Ginoza said, and he turned around and walked away.


	41. Close Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

“Are your eyes closed?” 

“Yes.” Akane couldn’t help but smile. Ginoza wasn’t one for surprises. He rarely made this much of a show out of gift giving. And Akane wondered at this occasion; it was a Thursday, no special occasion other than that Ginoza had made them dinner in his apartment, after a nice long walk in the park through the snow. Akane loved those walks with him; sometimes, when her hand was in his and the city sounds were distant, she forgot about her job and the Sibyl System. It didn’t matter. 

She was content, a little happy on wine, a lot happy on Ginoza’s company. She could hear him shuffling around on the other side of the table, heard him come around to stand next to her, more shuffling. 

“Turn right,” he said. 

Akane did so without opening her eyes. 

“Now open your eyes.” 

She did. 

Ginoza was kneeling in front of her, a small, deep red box resting in the palm of his outstretched hand. His eyes locked onto hers, and she could see his emotions flickering through them–nervousness, happiness, love. 

“Akane,” Ginoza said, “I can’t imagine living without you. I don’t want to. I love you more than anyone, and I want to promise you every part of me, forever. Will you marry me?”

He’d barely finished talking before Akane threw herself forward. He wrapped his arms around her, and they kneeled there for a moment, huddled close. 

Then Akane pulled away, and Ginoza handed her the box. She opened it, found a ring inside, simple, with a single diamond resting in a rose-gold band. Elegant and beautiful. She slipped it on her finger. 

“Yes,” she said. 

Ginoza smiled, and it was perhaps the most brilliant smile Akane had ever seen on him. 

“Thank you,” he said, “for wanting to share your life with me.” 

Akane didn’t know why he was thanking her. This wasn’t a sacrifice. It was the promise of something better.


	42. Come Here, Let Me Fix It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

Ginoza always cleaned up Kougami’s messes. “Let me help you,” he’d say, and Kougami was stubborn. He didn’t like to be helped. But eventually he would. 

Ginoza was the same way. And they both weren’t easy people to deal with. They both had a lot of problems that needed fixing. 

Ginoza, in the past, liked to think that he was the sort of person who wouldn’t be confronted with a problem and walk away from it. That he wouldn’t look at Kougami, the man he loved, and think, our love is not strong enough for this. I can’t fix it. 

Kougami was in the isolation facility, dressed in all white, behind thick glass. Ginoza stood in front of his cell and Kougami looked up at him, eyes far gone. Eyes focused on something beyond Ginoza. Kougami had been falling for months, and each time Ginoza looked at his rising crime coefficient and thought, I can fix this. 

They tried to solve the case. Ginoza tried to temper Kougami’s obsession with their killer. 

Then Sasayama died, and Ginoza knew. 

He felt like he was betraying Kougami, like he was a failure to himself. 

Ginoza looked at Kougami, trapped behind the glass in the sterile white room of a latent criminal holding cell, and thought, I can’t fix this. 

So he walked away.


	43. Why Do You Still Trust Me?

It was the second time Ginoza had aimed his gun at Kougami, but the first time he was handing it over. 

Kougami stared from the gun held outstretched towards him, muzzle facing away, and then up at Ginoza’s face, expressionless. Not afraid, not hesitant. 

He didn’t know what it was. A second chance? A peace offering? He took it, stood up. Wanted to ask, but Ginoza punched him in the face. 

His ears rang, his back hit the floor. He choked out, “why?” 

“Why did I punch you?” Ginoza was out of sight, but he sounded like he’d looked. Unreadable. 

“Why give me something I can hurt you with, if we’re on opposing sides?” Kougami asked. “Why not just shoot me?” 

“You’ve hurt me with less than a gun,” Ginoza told him, turning away, “and I’m not you.”


	44. Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood

They drove in silence through the winding roads from Saiga’s isolated house back to the city. It was dark, Ginoza slumped in the passenger seat, Kougami driving. The car could drive itself, but Kougami liked the act of having control of the vehicle with his hands on the wheel. 

He could get lost in the act of driving. For an action, it didn’t require much thought sometimes, especially not on these isolated roads. Which was why Ginoza was the first to notice the obstruction ahead. 

“Kou,” he said, sharp, sitting up straight and leaning forward. The headlights revealed a van parked sideways across the road, a pair of legs stretched out from underneath, the rest of the body hidden by the van’s shadow. 

“Shit,” Kougami muttered, stopping the car and unbuckling his seatbelt. He went for the door and Ginoza grabbed his arm. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed. 

“Someone’s hurt,” Kougami said, pulling away. “We’re the ones supposed to help them. I’m doing my job.” 

“Kougami-” 

Ginoza’s voice cut off as Kougami stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. 

It was quiet, completely still compared to the constant movement and noise of the city. As Kougami crept closer, he felt cold, and realized that he’d left his dominator in the car. The van didn’t look like it had crashed. Something was wrong. 

“Hello?” he called out. “Are you conscious? I’m here to help you. Can you tell me if you’re injured?” 

No answer. Kougami reached the legs, knelt on the pavement. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should pull the body out from underneath the car. He reached out, when one of the legs suddenly kicked him. 

The foot connected with his face. Kougami stumbled back, and right into the arms of someone else. He tried to escape, but the person held tight, and Kougami felt the arms constrict his chest. 

In front of him. a man scrambled out from underneath the van, aiming a gun not at Kougami, but at the car Kougami had arrived in. 

“Drop your weapon.” 

Ginoza’s voice. Kougami swallowed, realizing the other man was aiming his gun at Ginoza. 

“You drop yours,” the man said, “or your friend dies.” Kougami felt something cold press into his temple. 

“What do you want?” Ginoza asked. 

“Your weapons and money,” the man said. “Your information. Your technology. Not often we see police around here.” 

“You’re not going to let us go,” Ginoza said. He sounded tired. 

The man laughed. “You’re outnumbered.” 

For a moment, Kougami thought Ginoza would surrender. Or would let his captor shoot him. He hoped Ginoza would choose those options. He was less likely to get hurt. 

A flash of blue and a gunshot. The man behind Kougami abruptly let go, and Kougami fell to the ground, gasping. Something wet and heavy hit his back. 

He scrambled up and away, still half-blinded by the dominator blast, but another flash of blue light stopped him in his tracks, followed by the wet sound of another body hitting the floor in pieces. 

His vision cleared, and the only found was his harsh breathing. And Ginoza’s. 

Ginoza lowered his dominator and looked at Kougami, face pale. His other hand was pressed into his side, blood coating his fingers. 

“Thank you,” Kougami said. 

Ginoza made a strange sound. “He wasn’t a good shot. Now,” he gasped, “can we go home?” Then he collapsed. 

Kougami rushed forward, picked up Ginoza and his weapon, dragged him into the car. He tore off a piece of his own shirt to stem the bleeding enough until they got back to headquarters. 

He felt strangely satisfied running over the pieces of the man who had shot Ginoza as he rushed back to the city.


	45. I Had My Reasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of abuse

Kagari lay next to a dead body. The dominator hadn’t killed the man. Kagari’s own hands had choked him. He hadn’t bothered to shoot, because he felt the man’s crime coefficient was too low for what he’d done. Sibyl was wrong. So Kagari dropped the gun, launched himself at the man, and choked him to death while screaming. 

He hadn’t remembered what he’d screamed. 

When Ginoza shot him, he’d fallen facing the man. The man’s head was turned away, and Kagari felt relief. Relief that as he lost consciousness, he didn’t have to see the face of a man who they’d been called in to stop turning his anger towards his own children. He wouldn’t have to feel sick, knowing how this man had ruined the people he was meant to protect, to love. He wouldn’t have to look into the eyes of yet another person allowed to cause pain to children who only needed love. 

When he woke up, Ginoza was standing over his bed, staring down at him. Not angry, like Kagari expected. His expression was unreadable. 

“Why didn’t you use the dominator?” he asked. Getting right to the point, no pleasantries. 

Kagari knew why. But the anger had faded, Ginoza was probably more concerned about how this would make the division look, and Kagari knew that in most situations he could control himself. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “It won’t happen again.” 

Ginoza looked like he wanted to ask another question, and Kagari felt fear at having to explain himself. But Ginoza must have seen it in his face, or maybe he decided that it wasn’t worth bringing up. Maybe he had more important things to do. So he left. 

Kagari closed his eyes, relieved to turn his thoughts elsewhere.


	46. We Met Here

Ginoza knelt down to inspect the body of a seventeen year old boy, still dressed in his school uniform, creases of his blazer perfectly pressed, tie still tight around his neck. 

He was dead. 

Bruises marked the skin of his throat, deep purple against stark white. Ginoza looked over the boy for any other signs of struggle, but other than scratch marks on his face and blood under his nails, there were none. 

“Someone must’ve held one hell of a grudge,” Kougami said from behind him. 

“I think this goes beyond grudge,” Ginoza said. “Another student probably killed him.”

“Think they’ll let us pull guns on all of them?” Kougami asked. 

Ginoza sighed and stood up, adjusting his glasses. “That would be convenient. And also bad publicity. We’ll most likely have to interview each of the students.” 

“Boring,” Kougami muttered. He glanced at the body. “But it is kind of funny.” 

Ginoza startled. “The death of a teenager?” 

“Don’t get so pissed off,” Kougami said. He placed his hand on Ginoza’s arm, grinning. “This is where I first saved your ass.” 

Ginoza looked around. He’d been so focused on the body that he hadn’t realized where in the schoolyard they were. But Kougami was right. He closed his eyes, remembering fists driving into his stomach, nails breaking skin, his own voice cracking in protest, and a strong hand held in front of his face, not to hit but to help. 

“Gino?” 

Ginoza opened his eyes and Kougami stood in front of him. He looked more tired, he was in a suit now, but his eyes were still sharp and bright like they were at sixteen. Kougami still believed he could be someone’s hero. 

“I remember,” Ginoza said. Kougami smiled, but Ginoza turned away. “I’m glad we’ve moved on.” 

Kougami’s smile faded. “Gino-” 

“Now isn’t the time,” Ginoza said, quiet. “We have work to do.” He walked away, knowing Kougami would follow, would ask him questions, would wrap him in his arms that night as if to protect him. 

Of course Kougami wanted to remember the time he’d first protected Ginoza. 

But Ginoza didn’t.


	47. I Brought You An Umbrella

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akane/Ginoza

The first time Ginoza and Akane met, it was raining. She’d run through a crowd of people, arrived in front of Ginoza soaked through. He’d looked down at her like she was nothing, just another task he had to deal with that day, not as important as the job ahead of them. He hadn’t had time for her. 

Now Akane was standing in the rain, looking up at one of the tallest buildings in the city, where a break-in had been reported. Mika wasn’t on duty. It was just her and Ginoza, and the rain was starting to soak through her jacket. She hadn’t been expecting rain. 

A hand touched her shoulder, and Ginoza murmured, “Here. You shouldn’t get wet. It’s cold.” 

Akane turned towards him and he stepped away, remembering that they were working, that he should keep his distance, that right now they were Inspector and Enforcer, at least in his mind, even though they were alone. It was still work. 

Akane offered him a smile that was less professional and more fond, took the umbrella he offered. The umbrella he never would have offered her before, when they’d first met. When he’d been unable to see past the negatives his life had thrown at him. “We can share,” she said. 

“I’m fine,” Ginoza said. 

“You’ll look like a wet dog while we’re questioning people,” Akane said, laughing. 

“I am a wet dog,” Ginoza pointed out. 

Akane reached out, pulled him close, squeezed his arm. 

“Tsunemori-” 

“It’s okay,” Akane said. “We’re allowed to have our moments, just like everyone else. Let’s go inside.” 

Ginoza nodded, and he didn’t let go until they were in the building, dry, and ready to start interviewing.


	48. You Need to Put Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: injury

Ginoza felt Kougami’s arms slip underneath him and the ground fell away. His head knocked against Kougami’s chest and he gritted his teeth. 

“Put me down.” 

“No,” Kougami said. He’d started walking already, away from where he’d scooped Ginoza into his arms. 

“I can walk myself,” Ginoza snapped, holding back a cough. “Enforcer-” He cringed as Kougami jostled him, glared up at Kougami’s face. But Kougami stared straight ahead, jaw clenched. 

“You’re bleeding through your suit,” he said. 

“Wh-what?” Ginoza tried to move, tried to see, but the movement sent a sudden sharp pain through his entire body. His breath hitched, and he coughed, and he felt warmth on his lips. 

“We need medical attention. Now.” Kougami spoke to someone else. Ginoza’s head felt strange, full of static. 

“Kou?” For the first time he felt fear. Kougami hadn’t touched him in over a year. He couldn’t remember being injured, only being picked up off the ground. 

Kougami smoothed Ginoza’s hair away from his forehead. Ginoza could barely see. 

“It’ll be fine,” Kougami told him. “I’ve got you.” 

Ginoza wanted to believe him. He passed out before he could.


	49. The Blankness Was Getting to Me

Soft. 

That’s how he would describe the facility for latent criminals. Maybe not for long term residents, but when he was taken in everything was soft. Soft colors, soft textures, soft corners. His hospital gown was soft, too, some kind of synthetic cotton. 

Hinakawa liked soft things. He found them comforting. But here he felt they trapped him, swaddled him like a straightjacket pretending to be kind, that he couldn’t escape from. 

He wanted soft, but he also wanted the hard edges of the world. He enjoyed working against them, sometimes, when he could manage it. Sometimes it became too much. But the soft could become too much, too. Suffocating in wool was no less horrific than being cut with knives. 

His senses dulled, and at first it was a relief, but he knew his mind was sharp. Was capable of more than the doctors were allowing it to be. He didn’t even call them doctors. They were his captors. He was in a prison. He wanted to claw at the edges of his cell, scream at them to let him go. They made him sedate. 

Then a girl appeared, wanting to speak to him. She, too, was soft. Soft round face, soft hair, gentle voice, a kind smile. But underneath that, Hinakawa caught the hint of something not soft. A sharpness in his eyes, a twitch in her lips that broke the smile. 

“I work for the MWPSB,” she told him, “and we could use your help.” 

Those words weren’t sharp, but they broke through Hinakawa’s cotton-filled mind all the same. He could hear how determined she was, not just to get him on her side, but to make things work. What things, he didn’t know. 

But he knew he wanted to follow her.


	50. Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major character death

Choe was dead. 

Choe had exploded, ruthlessly shot by this thing, not even human. This collective that had the audacity to offer him to be part of them. He wouldn’t. Not when they killed Choe. 

He would make them burn. 

Choe wasn’t supposed to be dead. He would make them suffer. Not destroy the System. No, he would lay their inadequacies bare for all of humanity to see. He would make his country tear itself apart, take away their ignorance, their safety, their everything until there was nothing left but war torn ruins, smoldering skeletons where a once-shining city used to be. 

That was a terrible picture, and it didn’t even amount to half the anger he felt when he thought back to the surveillance footage of Choe bursting into so many pieces without even a chance to fight back. The Sibyl System hadn’t given him a choice, never gave anyone a choice like a coward it was. 

Makishima would do the same. 

He killed the man responsible for the country’s source of nourishment. Let them die of hunger. The Sibyl System controlled a lot but it couldn’t control everything. He would pull and pull at the strings holding the country together until they unraveled, until everything fell apart. 

He would die. 

Makishima didn’t believe in an afterlife. He knew his actions were futile in the sense that to Choe, they were meaningless. Choe ceased to exist the second the System pulled the trigger of the dominator on him. They would never meet again. 

He was doing this for himself. For his anger. If only the System had gone after him instead. 

He would have played much nicer, then.


	51. Do You Grow Flowers?

There was a plant on Akane’s desk, a succulent. It didn’t require much care. It also hadn’t been there long. Ginoza studied the small, dark green growth curiously, nestled in its tiny pot. 

“Ah, you found it,” Akane said from behind him. 

Ginoza straightened up. Akane smiled at him, her cheeks slightly pink. 

“I didn’t know you enjoyed plants,” Ginoza said. 

“Honestly, I’ve never had a plant before,” Akane said. “Not a real one. But I’ve seen how you take care of your plants on your desk and it looks calming. I thought I’d start with one that isn’t too hard to take care of but…I was wondering if you would help me?” 

Ginoza tugged at the glove over his artificial hand. They’d been sharing more with each other, but he hadn’t expected Akane to be interested in what he thought was one of the more mundane parts of his life. Her smile was genuine, though, and he nodded. “Anything you want to know, Tsunemori.” 

Her smile widened. “Thank you.” 

“Maybe one day you’ll have enough thriving plants to rival my desk garden,” Ginoza told her as she followed him to his desk.

“Or maybe we can make a garden together,” Akane said. 

Ginoza tried to ignore how his heart seemed to stop beating for a second. He liked that idea. He really did. More than she probably meant him to. 

He told himself that it would never happen. It was just a passing interest for her. 

But it would be nice, to share a garden with Akane one day.


	52. I Work With These People

There were jellybeans scattered all over the floor like a colorful carpet. Some of them had already been smashed by Kougami, who’d seen Kagari’s huge jar of the small candies tip over while Kagari was flailing his arms around explaining a game to Kunizuka and had left the room. Kagari had yelled at him to help, and Kougami’s only response was, “I don’t want to be here when Gino sees this.” 

Masaoka chuckled to himself and scooped a handful of jellybeans off the floor. 

“He’s right,” Kunizuka said. “These things are sticky enough to mess with the droids. I think we have to pick them up by hand.” 

“We can still eat them, right?” Kagari asked. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

Both of them looked up to find Ginoza standing at the entrance to the office, staring at the mess, mouth slightly open. 

“I’ll clean it,” Kagari said. “Don’t worry, boss. I got this.” 

“I know,” Kunizuka said, “I wonder how he’s in the police sometimes, too.” 

“Hey!” Kagari shot her a glare and started picking up beans. 

Ginoza pushed his glasses up. Pinched the bridge of his nose. Took a deep breath. “I don’t have time for this, and neither do you. We have cases to work.” 

“It’ll take five minutes,” Kagari said, although the beans had scattered and enough had been smashed that it looked like it would take at least twenty to clean them all. 

Ginoza brushed past him and sat down at his desk, glaring at his computer. 

“Hey, Gino,” Kagari started, but Ginoza cut him off. 

“No, Kagari, it is not sanitary to eat those after they fell on the floor.”


	53. You'll Never Speak

When Hinakawa was young, his caretakers at the home for orphaned children thought he would never learn to talk. Hinakawa understood language. He knew how to write, knew even how to form words. Those words just wouldn’t come out as noise. 

So he signed, and one day he gathered the courage to speak even though he thought no one would hear him. Most of the children were never heard, but they made noise. He figured if he didn’t want to get left behind, he should, too. 

The words were stolen from him when he was locked in an isolation facility, labeled a latent criminal. He knew he was a criminal, for selling too many pills, for taking them himself, for hacking because lines of code made so much sense and he could control them in a way that he couldn’t control himself. It was another language, one that he could use to make things happen, and one that didn’t need him to make a sound. 

“He’s the one that doesn’t speak,” the doctors would tell each other when they came around to his cell. Hinakawa didn’t correct them. He didn’t even bother to sign out the words he meant to say. They wouldn’t hear him. They wouldn’t understand the movements of his fingers. They were seeing him as less than human, and that’s how he felt. 

There was one kind doctor, who talked to him every day. She told him that they knew of his skills as a hacker, that those skills could be deemed useful to society. At first he didn’t listen, but as the days wore on she kept talking, and her words started to stick. She was telling him about a future beyond this cell. She was telling him that he could be useful. 

One day she said, “I can’t put your name forward for work that will utilize your skills unless I have confirmation that this is what you want. If not, you’ll stay here, which is fine if this is what you want.” 

Hinakawa shook his head, feeling air move up his throat, pushed by the anxiety of spending years alone in this place, with no one to visit, no one to talk to, no one to listen. 

“I want to leave,” his whispered, the works barely making their way past chapped lips. 

But the doctor heard, and she nodded. “I’ll put your name forward.”


	54. It Became Too Much Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

The problem wasn’t that Kougami left. In a way, it was expected. The problem was that Kougami had never even bothered to say goodbye. The problem was that Ginoza hadn’t seen him walk away. The problem was still that even after Kougami’s demotion, Ginoza had been holding onto some thread of hope that the two of them could work one day. That Kougami wouldn’t cut the string between them. The problem was that Ginoza had never admitted it. 

Those were Ginoza’s problems. Kougami’s breaking point came earlier. 

When Ginoza looked at Kougami with betrayal in his eyes, the first time he aimed a dominator at Kougami and found the value too high, showing the man he loved as a criminal. When Ginoza looked at Kougami with betrayal in his eyes, he looked like a stranger. Kougami felt like a stranger. 

Kougami had given up on Ginoza, had pursued his case instead. Ginoza hadn’t given up on Kougami, but he’d pretended to, because he couldn’t bear to think that Kougami would actually leave. It was all he thought about. 

Kougami left, and didn’t explain, and that’s when he broke. Kougami saw him suffering and walked away, and Ginoza thought he would come back, but he didn’t. 

Kougami never saw Ginoza walk away. Kougami saw himself chasing after something all-consuming, using instinct he could rely on, a sense of justice that would never reject him.

People told Kougami that he was brave. People thought Ginoza could be a coward. 

But Kougami ran, and Ginoza stayed.


	55. You Don't Have the Power to Kill Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Choe/Makishima

Makishima shoved Choe down so that he crashed to the floor, head knocking against the carpet. One deceptively thin arm pressed hard against Choe’s windpipe. Makishima put his entire weight over Choe to keep him from being able to move. With his other hand, Makishima brandished his favored razor. 

“This is not the time for doubts,” he growled. 

Choe grinned, despite not being able to breathe. 

Makishima stared at him. “It would be foolish of you not to be afraid.” He shifted his weight, just a little, enough to let Choe get some air. 

“You can’t kill me,” Choe rasped. 

“There are other hackers who would gladly take your place,” Makishima told him. “There are other people to whom I could reveal my entire plan. Everyone is replaceable in this world, Choe, even you.” 

“I know,” Choe said. “And yet.” 

“And yet what?” 

Choe jerked up, and pressed his lips to Makishima’s. The movement shocked Makishima into bringing the razor to Choe’s throat, pressing against his skin hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. But he’d moved enough so that Choe could also move his arms, and he brought his right hand up to grab Makishima’s throat. 

They pulled apart, just an inch, just enough so that Choe could see Makishima’s feral grin and Makishima could see Choe’s eyes, unwilling to look away and give up ground. 

“Which of us do you think could kill the other faster?” Makishima purred, licking his lips. 

There was a time when Choe would have been afraid of such a question, of being in such a vulnerable position. But he knew Makishima now. Even a man like Makishima could have a weakness. 

So Choe leaned forward, kissing Makishima again. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, and Makishima kissed him back, hard, until they became lost in each other. That they both had the others’ life at their hands, Choe’s hand still at Makishima’s throat, Makishima’s razor still pressed against Choe’s skin, only spurred them on.


	56. Even In Death He Forced a Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major character death
> 
> Tw: mentions of abuse

Oddly enough Kagari had never been afraid of dominators. Maybe it was becauase he was a latent criminal, or maybe it was the reason why he was a latent criminal. If he thought about it hard enough, he’d know that it was because he wasn’t afraid of the numbers. Crime coefficients, hues, they were as good as useless to him. He’d already lost everything, except his life. 

Maybe he wasn’t afraid of the violent end that met criminals whose numbers were over 300 because he’d been used to violence. First, the violence that brought him to the attention of a street scanner at the age of five. Then the violence of unruly children and teenagers locked up with nothing better to do but think of their anger and the ways they’d been abandoned by their society. Then, as he moved into the adult detention center, the violence of people who had seen their whole lives stripped away, and the fury that came with that loss, if they weren’t willing to accept it. 

Maybe it was because throughout the years, after being locked away, and then after becoming an Enforcer, his number remained stable. He’d learned that his life wasn’t his to live anymore, accepted it, and moved on. That acceptance came too late, the damage was done, but at least he wouldn’t ruin what little he had left with anger and lingering too long on what-might-have-been’s. 

His life had never been his, so when he saw the dominator aimed at him change to lethal eliminator, he accepted it. A part of his mind knew that this was wrong, that his number was still low enough to keep him alive. But he also knew he’d seen too much. In the grand scheme of things, his life didn’t matter. It never had. 

He wouldn’t go out angry. He wouldn’t linger. 

Instead he smiled at the thing that would kill him.


	57. Should We Step In?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kunizuka/Shion

Raised voices drifted in from the office. Kunizuka stopped just before they reached the entrance. Shion nearly bumped into her, stopped just in time. 

Kunizuka’s grip on her coffee cup tightened. Shion recognized the voices now. Both male. Ginoza and Kougami. She was rarely around the offices, but she’d heard them argue enough in her own office that she knew the sound. 

She rested her chin on Kunizuka’s shoulder and murmured, “Should we step in?” 

“No,” Kunizuka said, not quiet leaning into the touch like Shion wanted. “They do this all the time and there’s no getting between them. They’ll argue themselves out, eventually.” 

“What happens when they do?” 

“One usually leaves for a break.” 

“Hmm. Do you want to wait until they’re done? Because I can think of a way to pass the time.” Shion cupped Kunizuka’s chin under her hand, tried to tilt her head. 

Kunizuka pulled away. “Not here.” 

Shion pouted. “If not here, where?” 

Before Kunizuka could respond, Ginoza stormed out of the office, didn’t notice them as he rushed down the corridor in the opposite direction. 

Shion pulled back and placed her hands on Kunizuka’s shoulders, trying to massage the tension away. 

“I don’t like it when they fight,” Kunizuka said. “I remember when they didn’t.” 

“I know,” Shion said. “If you need a break, my office is always open.” 

Kunizuka sighed. “Shion.” 

“I mean it,” Shion said, finally feeling some of Kunizuka’s tension disperse. “For anything. Even if it’s sitting and talking. I know I give the impression of an insatiable goddess but I’m actually quite a good listener.” 

“I know.” Kunizuka took a deep breath. “I’ll take you up on that.” 

“Any time,” Shion said, and watched with a small smile on her lips as Kunizuka headed back into the office.


	58. Fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

In another world, Kougami Shinya would be some kind of hero. 

Ginoza noticed that he liked to think of himself that way. Kougami had a narrative of himself that spoke to the fairytales of old. Kougami fought for justice, he protected those he cared about, and he would sacrifice himself for the greater good. So he thought. 

Kougami made grandiose promises, and Ginoza might have believed them if he believed in those kinds of stories. 

He didn’t, because when he was younger, his father was a hero. A detective who fought for justice, the prince who had swept his mother off her feet and promised to protect her and the city they lived in. He would keep their family safe and happy and whole, and with his entire being, Ginoza believed him. 

His father was better than any prince in any book because he was real, and he was there, and he wrapped his arms around Ginoza at night and promised him the world. 

Then the arguments started. His mother and his father talked about hue, about rising numbers, about an early retirement that might be necessary, about therapy that his father didn’t think he needed. They argued and argued and it was too late, Ginoza’s father disappeared. He was locked away, and could give Ginoza nothing. He was called a criminal. Not a hero. 

“I’ll always be here for you,” he’d said, and he wasn’t. 

Ginoza never promised if he didn’t think he could keep it. Kougami promised everything because he thought he could. Because in his story, Kougami wouldn’t lose. He would emerge triumphant against any evils that threatened his life, his lovers, the place he called home. 

Ginoza watched those promises break apart, one by one. Kougami stopped protecting him, stopped listening to his concerns as he pursued a case that would wreck them all. Kougami believed he could solve it. Kougami believed he would emerge triumphant. 

Instead, he was locked away. 

There was no love after that. It wasn’t something Ginoza could afford. It was a nice concept, but a foolish one. Love was full of promises no one had ever kept for him, and when Kougami left, it was another confirmation that Ginoza had been right not to believe. 

And he was locked up, too. 

But unlike Kougami, Ginoza’s narrative for himself had never ended in triumph.


	59. You're a Supporting Character

When Kougami opened his eyes, Ginoza stood over him, glaring not at his face, but at a point somewhere around his abdomen. 

Kougami tried to move, but winced, realized why he was waking up in the infirmary instead of in his bed. Pain lanced through his side, up and down the rest of his body. He remembered the strange building, the maze of metal crates, the robotic hunting dogs and the archaic animal traps. He remembered seeing the barrel of a hunting rifle, the bullets piercing his side. 

Ginoza was staring at the injuries. He hadn’t noticed that Kougami was awake. 

He tried to talk, and at first nothing came out but a hiss of air. That’s when Ginoza’s expression shifted, to slightly less anger laced with concern. Kougami tried again, and this time managed to get out the words, “How is Akane?” 

“Fine,” Ginoza said, although his eyes darted away for a moment. 

“You’re hiding something.” 

“Akane is fine,” Ginoza repeated, more firm, this time looking Kougami in the face. “I’m not here to talk about her. I want to talk to you.” 

“Visiting me in the hospital?” Kougami managed a smirk. “How kind of you, Gino.” 

“This isn’t a courtesy visit,” Ginoza said. “I know you’ll live.” 

“I almost thought you were worried.” 

Ginoza’s body tensed. “Stop.” 

“What?” 

“You need to stop trying to play the hero.” 

Kougami blinked. “I’m sorry?” 

“You need to stop diving into these situations thinking that you’re the only one who could possibly catch Makishima,” Ginoza said. “You need to stop throwing yourself into danger. You need to stop working alone on this case. You’re part of a team, Kougami.” 

Kougami’s smirk faded. “I’m the one who knows the most about this case. My subordinate was killed-” 

“He was my subordinate too,” Ginoza interrupted. 

“Like you cared-” 

“Don’t you dare-” 

“I’ve been working for three years on this case while you moved on, pretended that it was closed, that it didn’t matter anymore. That Sasayama died for nothing.” 

“I was doing my job.” 

“Who else could capture Makishima, if not me?” 

“It wasn’t you,” Ginoza shouted, his voice echoing in the room. 

Kougami stared at him. 

“It wasn’t you,” Ginoza continued, words sharp. “Tsunemori is the one who saw his face. Tsunemori is the one who is going to give us valuable information on Makishima. Not you. It’s not always going to be you. So accept that. Stop being an idiot and risking your life needlessly. Work with the team or don’t work at all.” 

“What do you mean, she’ll give us information?” Kougami asked, trying to sit up. Ginoza ignored him, turned around and strode out of the room. “Gino!” 

Ginoza didn’t come back. Kougami couldn’t run after him. 

Years he’d been looking for Makishima, and Ginoza thought it amounted to nothing. He couldn’t accept that. He hadn’t wasted years. He’d made a promise to himself, to Sasayama. This case was his. 

It had to be.


	60. You Can't Question Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“Why does this matter so much to you?” 

Kougami ignored Ginoza, sifting through the files he’d stored in his apartment of the Specimen Case. Paper files, because he knew where they were at all times. He didn’t have to depend on a computer system that he didn’t trust to bring them up for him, to keep them the same as they were. He didn’t trust the System not to alter them. 

That was part of the reason it mattered so much. 

There was another part, something a bit twisted and a bit ugly and it wasn’t just grief over losing a friend, which was the third part. The smallest part, he hated to admit, wouldn’t even admit it to himself most of the time, that it was smaller than this ugly thing. That he had lost. That someone had undermined his job, his abilities as a detective. That someone thought he wouldn’t be enough to solve this case, to find out the truth. That someone was taunting him, and he couldn’t stand it. 

Ginoza would tell him over and over again how long it had been, as if time was a reason to let things go. It’s been three months, six months, a year, two years. Like time mattered. The only thing time proved was that Ginoza wouldn’t understand, give how he clung to the concept. Ginoza, who didn’t move on, wanted Kougami to let go. Ginoza wasn’t going to admit that Kougami was right. 

“It’s been three years,” Ginoza said, and Kougami didn’t bother to look at him. Three years in which Ginoza questioned him, and Kougami had stopped providing answers because Ginoza didn’t like any of them. He didn’t look at the way Ginoza had become thinner, hiding himself behind his longer hair and his glasses. At how Ginoza had become tense, waiting for answers that would never come. 

“If you’re not going to help me then leave,” Kougami said. “I’m busy.” 

Ginoza left.


	61. Those Are His Shoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: drug overdose

Hinakawa was barely conscious. His body felt heavy. He couldn’t open his eyes. He felt like he was floating through the air, even though he probably wasn’t. 

“I’m taking him to the medical wing,” he heard Ginoza say, though he couldn’t see him. “Meet me there?” 

“Yes.” Akane, this time. “I’ll stop by his apartment to get anything he might want. Something to read. Um, what else?” 

“A change of clothes,” Ginoza said. “Shoes.” 

“What happened?” 

“Mika is still in the office.” 

“Ginoza-” 

“He collapsed on shift. I think it must have to do with the pills.” 

A sigh. Hinakawa felt a twinge in his chest. Had he disappointed her? Him? He didn’t want to disappoint either of them. But it had been a hard week. He wanted to tell Ginoza that it was okay, he hadn’t meant to hurt himself. Is that what was going on? Had he over done it?” 

He couldn’t move his mouth. He felt so tired, like he might pass out at any moment. It was a familiar feeling. It didn’t feel bad, but he remembered the last time he felt this way, the situation had been bad. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Okay. I have to go. It’s hard to talk and hold him. And I’m almost there.” 

“Okay.” 

“Akane…” Then, so low that Hinakawa could barely make it out, “I’m scared.” 

“I’ll be there soon.” 

Hinakawa wanted to reach out, take Ginoza’s hand, tell him that it was okay, that he’d just lost track. He wasn’t even scared of going to the hospital, even though it usually bothered him. Maybe it was the drugs talking, making him calm and compliant. Or maybe it was the person holding him. 

He could hear Ginoza talking to him, but words had stopped making sense. He allowed himself to be carried, to drift. He trusted Ginoza to keep him safe.


	62. I Have to Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Akane sank into Ginoza’s touch, his arms wrapped around her. He always said he was cold, but he was warm, so warm. Sometimes she didn’t understand the way he thought about himself. 

And sometimes she was amazed at the way he thought about her. 

They’d stopped kissing a few minutes ago, when Ginoza surprised her with Dime during a stressful day at the office. He was meant to have the day off, but being in the building, he tended to come in even when he wasn’t supposed to be in. Sometimes, to do extra work. More often now, to see Akane. 

Dime was resting behind Akane’s desk, having taken the hint that the humans wanted to be with each other and that he would get some attention later. 

Right now, Akane just wanted to stay in Ginoza’s warm embrace forever. 

Voices drifted from down the hallway. Familiar. 

“Kunizuka-san, I don’t understand why you spend so much time out of the office when you should be working-” 

Ginoza stiffened. “I shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. 

“You work here,” Akane said. 

“But she doesn’t know.” 

Akane stepped away from him, because he was right. Mika didn’t know, and couldn’t know. Ginoza stepped away as well, fixing his coat, and hurried to his desk. 

Mika and Kunizuka entered the office. Kunizuka gave Akane a knowing look that made her cheeks turn red. Mika narrowed her eyes at Ginoza. “I thought you had the day off.” 

“I was bored,” Ginoza said, turning on his computer. 

Mika sighed. “We have nothing for you to do, Enforcer.” She made her way to her desk, sat down, and glanced at Akane. Her eyes widened. “Why is there a dog here?” 

“Um,” Akane said. 

“I thought,” Ginoza came to her rescue, “that since it’s a slow day, everyone might benefit from something fun. Like Dime. He loves people.” 

“I like dogs,” Kunizuka said, before Mika could protest. She got up and went behind Akane’s desk, kneeling to pet Dime, whose tail started wagging in enthusiasm. Mika sighed and turned away, and Ginoza nearly sank into his chair with relief. 

“Thank you,” Akane mouthed at Kunizuka. 

Kunizuka shrugged and kept petting Dime.


	63. Hallucinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood and hallucinations

Akane lay in a pool of blood. Her own blood, her eyes glassy and wide and unmoving in a paper-white face, mouth open in a pained scream, her limbs at unnatural angles. 

Hinakawa screamed. 

Someone grabbed him from behind. Someone asked him, “what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” 

Don’t you see, he wanted to shout, but his voice wouldn’t work. Someone was trying to pull him away, but he couldn’t leave her there. Not like that. He struggled against them, refused to look away from the body. 

Someone had him in a strong grip, and yanked him back. Hinakawa only struggled harder and harder, perhaps it was the same person that killed Akane come for him. Maybe he should let them take him. No, he would hurt them for what they’d done to him. His heart beat too fast, he couldn’t let Akane die like this, and he managed to rip himself out of the grip, spun around, and grabbed the nearest thing he could find–a computer keyboard–and swung it at his attacker’s head. 

A crack, and a shout, as the keyboard connected and partially shattered. Hinakawa raised it again over his head as his attacker staggered back, holding his face, blood seeping from between gloved fingers and dark hair. 

Familiar. 

Hinakawa dropped his make-shift weapon. 

His attacker was Ginoza. 

Snap. 

He turned around. Akane’s body wasn’t there. Just the two inspectors’ desks. He hadn’t seen them before. Hadn’t even known where they were. 

“Sho,” Ginoza said from behind him. 

Hinakawa wrapped his arms around himself, sunk to his knees. It had been so long since he’d seen things that weren’t there, that he’d forgotten that it could happen at all. The pills, he realized. The pills, and Ginoza didn’t know. But Ginoza was looking at him through the blood running down his face with growing concern. 

“I need help,” Hinakawa whispered. 

Ginoza kneeled in front of him, ignoring the blood and the injury, and wrapped his arms around Hinakawa, held him until Akane arrived.


	64. I Don't Feel It Anymore

“Ginoza. Ginoza. Sir? You have a visitor.” 

There were no drugs. Nothing he could blame for the fog in his mind except himself. He hadn’t moved for hours, his one remaining hand resting limp in his lap, joined by an empty sleeve of the hospital-issue top he’d been given. The thin fabric didn’t keep out the cold, but Ginoza didn’t care. The cold had long burrowed under his skin and into his bones, and he could barely feel it. 

He felt like a corpse. 

Slowly, he blinked. It was too much effort to raise his head, to actually make his eyes see. He wasn’t seeing, not really, just staring straight ahead. Slowly, the blur in front of him shifted into focus. Barely, he saw the outline of a person. A nurse. A prison guard. 

“You have a visitor,” the voice repeated, and this time the words managed to penetrate the fog, causing a reaction. Small, but it made him wonder who. Who would visit this shell of a man who had failed in everything? Who wasn’t even worth staying for? 

It was one word, “who,” but he couldn’t force it out. His lips were chapped, his throat dry, or raw, from screaming, and now he had nothing left to give. Whoever it was should leave. He had nothing left to give. 

He never asked the question, but the nurse said, “Inspector Tsunemori is here. You should see her. She’s been here every day this week.” 

Had she? Ginoza didn’t remember being told that, before. Didn’t remember refusing to see her. Maybe this nurse had told him, maybe he hadn’t heard. He could barely remember the days. He could barely remember himself. 

“She wants to talk to you about a possible return to the Unit as an Enforcer.” 

Something uncurled in Ginoza’s chest. Warm, a contrast to the cold. She wanted him back. He had nothing, but she wanted him back. The fog fought against the warm, but it was losing. Slowly, Ginoza shifted. He leaned forward. He took a breath. 

He said a word. 

“Okay.” 

Maybe he still had something left, after all.


	65. Wet Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“You look like a wet dog,” Kougami said, laughing at the glare Ginoza shot his way. It didn’t have the desired effect, mostly because Ginoza’s hair was plastered to his face, to his glasses. 

They’d been walking to work when a car rushed past on the road, and splashed Ginoza with a huge wave of water. Kougami had managed to get away just in time, being the one walking farthest away from the road, but Ginoza got hit, and his umbrella became useless. 

“You’re the dog,” Ginoza snapped, weakly. 

Kougami sighed and wrapped his arm around Ginoza. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere dry.” 

“Let go of me.” 

Kougami dragged him down the street and pulled him into the PSB building lobby. Ginoza wriggled out from Kougami grip and shook his sleeves, rain drops spattering the floor around him. He was dripping constantly, and his feet were now standing in a personal puddle. 

“This is never going to dry,” Ginoza moaned. 

“Here. Give me your jacket,” Kougami said. Ginoza stared at him. “Come on.” 

Reluctantly, Ginoza pealed off his jacket, handed it off to Kougami, who dropped it on the floor. It made a sickening plopping sound. 

“Hey!” 

“Suit jacket,” Kougami said. Ginoza took that off too. His shirt wasn’t as badly soaked as the rest of him. Kougami shrugged out of his jacket and suit jacket and handed them both to Ginoza. 

“What’s this?” Ginoza asked. 

“I don’t mind going around in just a work shirt and trousers,” Kougami said, “but you’re a sticker for the full suit. And you get cold easily. So take them. You can give them back when your shit dries.” 

“It won’t fit right,” Ginoza said, but he took them anyway and slipped Kougami’s suit jacket on. 

Kougami grinned. “That looks good on you.” 

“Shut up.” Ginoza stepped towards him, bent over to pick up his soaked clothes, and when he straightened up, Kougami was right there, grinning. “What-” 

Kougami kissed him, amused at how Ginoza’s skin was still cold and wet from the rain. Ginoza sighed against the kiss, and Kougami pulled away. “You may be a wet dog, but you’re my wet dog.” 

Ginoza narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “That’s terrible. We’re going to be late.” 

“After you.” 

Ginoza rolled his eyes and headed for the elevators, Kougami following close behind.


	66. That's the Wrong Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

“Why does this case matter so much to you? It’s been three years.” Every time, the words slipped out of his mouth, and they weren’t the words he wanted to say. 

But asking the question he wanted to ask was like admitting that he’d already lost. And he had. Kougami was an Enforcer. Kougami would never be considered an upright citizen again. He was a latent criminal, the same label given to Ginoza’s father, the one that had ruined their family. The two words that haunted Ginoza every night when he checked his hue and crime coefficient before going to bed and saw that point-by-point it was rising. 

He didn’t know how it had been for Kougami, even when they were close and it had burned him sometimes, wondering if Kougami was okay, wondering if he was clear and safe from the System. He never asked, and Kougami never offered the information. To him, Kougami’s downfall had been a sudden spike the day Sasayama died, and maybe that was the truth of it. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know that despite loving him, Kougami’s crime coefficient had still risen. That it hadn’t been enough. 

(It hadn’t, anyway. It hadn’t been enough to bring Kougami back down, to keep him from obsessing over the case long after it was over. It hadn’t been enough to keep him at all.) 

Back then, they were more honest with each other. Now, Kougami hid things from him, gave him nothing when he could. Their relationship turned into arguments and angry looks and questions unanswered. Maybe that was why the question Ginoza wanted to ask never managed to voice itself out loud. 

“Why wasn’t I enough?” 

Maybe he didn’t want to know.


	67. Beyond the White Walls

For the first time in weeks, Ginoza stepped beyond the walls of the isolation facility and into fresh air. For the first time in weeks he could look up at the sky, could tell the time of day simply by noticing how bright it was. He didn’t have to rely on the nurses giving him the time, on the artificial lights turning on and off at designated hours. There was a a cuff around his metal hand but still, this felt like freedom. 

Akane walked in front of him, heading towards the car. She’d offered to stop by the cemetery first, and he hadn’t objected. He wanted to see his father. He also wanted to stay outside as long as possible. The idea of going back into another building so quickly made his skin crawl. He pulled his father’s jacket tighter around him, just the thought making him cold. 

Akane threw a glance back at him, gave him an encouraging smile. He realized he was taking a long time, slow steps, uncertain. Things were different now. His relationship to the world had changed. He wasn’t a free man. 

But he was more free than the people he was leaving behind, still stuck in that building. 

He had only one person to thank. The woman in front of him, who could still smile and still radiate warmth despite everything that had happened. Despite how hard he had been on her. She wanted him back, thought he was useful even though he’d spent so much time treating her like a child, lashing out in anger, pushing her away. 

He’d pushed and pushed and she had no reason at all to free him from his self-made prison, but she’d reached out to him when he had nothing left, reached through the fog of his grief and self-loathing and the pain and pulled him out. She was the reason he was slowly walking on solid ground, that the wind played with his hair, that he could see the sky. 

His eyes stung, possibly from the sun, and he reached the car all too soon. Akane turned to him again, concerned. “Are you okay?” 

He couldn’t say. His throat was stuck. Instead he lurched forward, pulled her into a one-armed hug. Akane made a small noise of surprise. 

“Ginoza-san!” 

“Sorry,” Ginoza tried to pull away, but Akane wrapped her arms around him. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “You just surprised me. Why aren’t you using both arms?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he mumbled, and gingerly, he wrapped his other arm around her, allowed it to ghost over her body. He still wasn’t sure quite how to use it. It still didn’t feel like him. 

Akane seemed to understand, just held him close for a moment, her body warm against his. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Akane pulled away, smiled at him, bright. “Thank you for coming back.”


	68. Wishing You Were Here Again

There were times when Ginoza felt like a prisoner to the ghosts of people who had gone. 

If only he could forget them. That would be easier. Forget that Kougami had once kissed him, passionate and long and warm, a bit rough, forget that they whispered to each other as the night turned into morning. If only he could forget his mother’s warm smile, the way she would run his fingers through his hair to fix it, even though he’d fixed it himself. If only he could forget his father, the hatred, and before that, staring up at this man holding a gun and believing he was the bravest person in the world. If only he could forget wanting to be that man, and then realizing the man he wanted to be was a disappointment. 

If only he could forget that they’d all left him, each taking a piece of him with them. 

Ginoza wasn’t quite a shell, but he wasn’t whole. There were pieces of him missing, meant to be filled by people who would never come back. Even Kougami, still alive, would probably never be seen again. Or if they met, they wouldn’t be on the same side. Sometimes, Ginoza didn’t want to see Kougami again, because he didn’t want Kougami to be the enemy. 

He still had people. Not ghosts, but people. People he could touch, people who could ease the pain. Akane. Her warm smile and her eyes, full of believe and hope and conviction. He hung on to that, perhaps more than he should have. Hanging onto other people was dangerous. 

But she gave him hope. 

She kept him from turning into a ghost, too.


	69. Is This Why You Kissed Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kougami/Ginoza

It was cold. Not snowing, but patches of ice coated the empty sidewalk. Ginoza shivered, stopped under one of the many street lights. 

They were both tired from a long day in the field. Kougami blew warm air onto his hands as he stopped as well. When they walked home together, something that they did less and less often as the job took more from them, this was where they always parted ways. 

But Ginoza looked cold and exhausted, and Kougami didn’t want him to walk home alone. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ginoza said. 

Kougami stepped forward, gently touching Ginoza’s arm, and pressed a kiss to Ginoza’s lips. He was cold. 

Ginoza stepped back. “Kougami.” 

“Get home safe.” 

Ginoza frowned. “I always do. Why-” 

“We don’t spend enough time together,” Kougami said. “Not anymore.” 

“So you kissed me. Just…all of a sudden.” 

“No, I…” Kougami closed his eyes. “You know how I feel.” 

“You know how I feel,” Ginoza said. “It wouldn’t be wise.” 

“That’s why I’ve never kissed you in the office.” 

“So you kiss me where no one can see?” Ginoza turned to leave. 

“Wait.” Kougami tugged at his arm. “Think about it. Please?” 

Ginoza sighed, his breath forming mist in the dark night air. “Fine.” He pulled away, and out of the light, and Kougami watched him disappear down the street. 

He took out a cigarette and lit it, allowing the smoke to warm him. For now, it would have to do.


	70. I'll Give You One More Chance

The years had changed them both. 

Perhaps they’d changed Ginoza the most. He stood in the middle of a war-torn country, faced with truths he couldn’t have imagined back in Japan, and he seemed calm. Ginoza, years ago, wouldn’t have been calm. Not about any of this. 

But now Ginoza handled himself like he could handle the stresses of life. Kougami understood why. Those stresses had already broken him, what more did he have to lose? Ginoza was hardened. Kougami wondered if there was any of the softness, the tender care left. 

Or maybe that was what Ginoza chose to show him. Kougami knew he’d made Ginoza hurt. He knew from the moment he decided to leave. He’d had to, but Ginoza probably hadn’t seen it that way. 

Kougami had known, when he left, that leaving was the the worst thing he could possibly do. Being left behind cut Ginoza deepest. He’d told Kougami this one night, back when they were both inspectors and both believed in love and the system they served. He’d admitted, in barely over a whisper, that his father leaving nearly killed him. 

“I want to be worth staying for,” he’d whispered, and Kougami had held him and murmured, “you are.” 

Another night, after a drunken argument (mostly on Kougami’s side), Ginoza had been getting worked up over Kougami’s increasingly reckless behavior. And Kougami shouted, “That’s why I need you!” 

He’d seen the way Ginoza’s eyes had widened. It wasn’t like a declaration of love, where the response would be, “I love you, too.” Kougami knew that Ginoza didn’t want to admit that he needed Kougami, too, or anyone else. He wanted to become self-sufficient. Other people hurt. 

Kougami did need Ginoza. To listen to him, to keep him in line, to need him. He needed Ginoza until he stopped, until he needed other things more. Like justice for Sasayama, like the truth about Makishima, like revenge. Until he needed to leave. 

They stood under the stars of the same sky on different ground, and Kougami’s face throbbed from where Ginoza hit him. He wasn’t sure what he needed, now. He thought he’d needed to leave. He thought he’d needed to fight. Maybe he didn’t need either of those things. Maybe he needed to admit he was lost. 

“I’m leaving,” Ginoza told him. “I’m going back with Tsunemori.”

“Why?” Kougami asked. 

Ginoza stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up at the stars. “I don’t need you anymore, Kougami.” 

The words stung. 

“Oh.” 

“You never needed me, either,” Ginoza continued. “I can live with the life I have, now.” 

“Sometimes people need each other,” Kougami said. “You can’t deny that.” 

“I know,” Ginoza said, softly. “That isn’t what I meant. I do need someone. I realized it’s not you.” 

Kougami nodded. Perhaps that had been the problem. They could never give each other what they needed. 

“I wanted you,” Ginoza continued, “but that isn’t the same thing, is it?” 

It wasn’t. 

Kougami wanted to kiss him, just to say goodbye. But maybe that was too dangerous. It wasn’t something either of them needed. Instead, he watched Ginoza go, walk back to the life he had built for himself, trapped though he might be in a world that saw him as a criminal. Back to a life Kougami couldn’t understand anyone wanting. 

But he let Ginoza go. He needed to learn to let go.


	71. Will You Remember Her Eyes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginoza/Akane

Akane had beautiful eyes. 

Not because of their color, or their size. But because of what they revealed about her. She could hide her emotions, but they were most beautiful when she wasn’t. When they were open, and honest. Determined. Hopefully. She looked at people and saw the best in them. 

There was a warmth and capacity for love in her eyes that Ginoza had never seen in anyone else. Kougami’s eyes were protective, but also cold and calculating and at their worst, angry and predatory. Risa’s eyes had been sad, dimmed from years spent seeing the worst of society and losing people. Ginoza didn’t want to look at his own eyes. He didn’t want to find that they were cold and empty. 

Ginoza needed Akane. He needed her to look at him the way he knew she would if they were lovers. But those old fears had never completely gone away. Kougami had once looked at Ginoza with love, before the job leeched what it could away from them, and then he’d left. Ginoza hardly remembered those tender moments between them. He remembered the arguments, the harsh words, but he rarely remembered the way Kougami looked at him before he said “I love you.” 

He wondered if Kougami had forgotten him, too. 

He needed someone. But he couldn’t get past the whispers in his head, telling him that he would lose her. He would lose Akane and forget her. Forget her genuine smile, her caring eyes. Forget her love. 

Why would he put himself through that? 

Even as they grew closer, he kept that part to himself. 

Until one night, when they were alone in the office, Akane touched his arm and said, “It’s not true.” 

“What?” he asked. 

She gave him a sad smile, and her eyes too were sad. “You won’t lose me.” 

“You can’t promise that,” Ginoza said. “What if I do? And what if I forget you?” 

Akane placed her hands over his. “What if you don’t?”


End file.
